


Break the Civilized Chains

by Shenandoah76209



Series: Chains [1]
Category: Firefly, The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 05:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6066945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenandoah76209/pseuds/Shenandoah76209
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riddick has been left for dead. But when the mercs arrive they already have a bounty they've been keeping for her abilities. Riddick hasn't really had much good luck with Seers but that's about to change. River's been biding her time, forced to endure slavery, and now she finally has a chance to escape. If Riddick will trust her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: What’s Past is Prologue

Don't know how many times I been crossed off the list and left for dead.  
Guess when it first happens the day you were born...  
You're gonna lose count.  
.  
So this ain't nothin' new...  
.  
There are bad days...  
And then there are legendary bad days...  
This was shaping up to be one of those...  
Can't stay in the open...  
Can't risk another attack...  
.  
It's always the punch you don't see comin' that puts you down.  
But why didn't I see it?  
.  
Of course they're gonna try to kill me; death is what they do for a living.  
.  
So the question ain't what happened.  
The question is...  
What happened to me...?  
.  
How'd they get so close?  
How'd I let 'em blindside me like that?  
.  
Necromongers...  
Some wanted to put a crown on my head...  
Some wanted to put a noose around my neck...  
.  
Okay, more nooses than crowns...  
.  
Every Lord Marshall was supposed to take some big oath...  
.  
One that I...  
...................…Never really got around to.  
.  
Could say it created a little friction.  
And more than a few assassins...  
.  
I needed a way out...  
Some new place...  
Or maybe just...an old one...  
.  
Vaako...  
You can't blame him for dangling Furya...  
Home has a certain equity...  
.  
But I do blame him.  
For what came next...  
.  
Instead of Furya...  
We wind up someplace called  
Not Furya...  
.  
Yet again...  
Someone was trying to play me...  
So yet again...  
We play for blood...  
.  
.  
Somewhere along the way, I lost a step...  
I got sloppy.  
Dulled my own edge.  
Maybe I went and did the worst crime of all...  
I got civilized.  
.  
.  
So now... we zero the clock  
.  
Gotta find that animal side again...  
.  
.

8888

Black  
Nothingness...  
The fuzz of tranqs...  
In my blood...  
In my mind...  
.  
Memories...  
Mercs...  
They found me...  
.  
They killed...  
.  
No!  
Don't think of that now...  
.  
Memories will kill me...  
If the mercs don't manage it first.  
.  
.  
Pain...  
Steel against flesh...  
Chains...  
.  
And worse than chains...  
.  
.  
Flesh tearing…  
Burning...  
That sickening sensation...  
Senses reeling...  
all six of them...  
.  
.  
Someone's breath in my face  
A body over mine,  
Huge,  
Inflicting even more agony.  
Crushing me…  
.  
.  
Penetrating...  
Piercing...  
.  
.  
Wetness, slick, more burning...  
It stops.  
Relief.  
Air.  
.  
.  
And then it starts again...  
Another body...  
Between my thighs…  
As bad as the steel...  
As bad as the needles...  
.  
Worse than the training...  
Worse than the deterioration of my mind...  
.  
At least three of them...  
Smelling of sweat,  
Gun oil and grease,  
Onions and MREs,  
And Simon's blood.  
.  
Heavy body,  
Heaving over me,  
Rutting in me…  
.  
Like I'm a thing...  
.  
Time to hide away for a while...  
I'll come out again later...  
After they're done...  
.  
But they don't stop...  
Not for days...  
Or is it weeks?  
I can't tell...  
Don't care...  
.  
Manic words, spilling out...  
I don't know what I'm saying...  
I never know what I'm saying...  
.  
And it stops...  
For a time...  
.  
It happens again...  
.  
I go away for a while...  
.  
The boy with Book's symbol  
Giving me water...  
Interpreting my words...  
.  
He stops them...  
A nice boy...  
.  
Doesn't say which ones it was though...  
Not that stupid...  
.  
.  
But I don't need to see their faces.  
I already know their minds,  
Their names.  
.  
All I have to do is endure...  
.  
And wait...  
.  
.


	2. Chapter 1: All Our Yesterdays Have Lighted Fools

He found the cave system about two months after he got out of the mountainous area filled with bad water, and things that would rather eat him than not. Riddick set Dog down and pointed a finger at him, it was still pretty small but better Dog learn to behave and obey now. Not following orders could get it killed. For a half a second he wondered why he was worrying about an animal. Then he shook his head, he'd started to take care of Dog. If he just stopped when it got a little annoying he was no better than a merc. There was something he’d heard, in another life when he’d been just a kid. Something about a rose and a prince and a fox. About when you tame something, you’re responsible for it.

Riddick shrugged and looked at Dog again. If he tied him to something, he was bait for any predator that came along. If he didn’t and Dog followed him the little animal could get hurt. Although Dog was growing up pretty quick, he’d heard animals in the wild had that tendency. 

Maybe that was why foster kids like him tended to grow like weeds when they hit their teens? Once the cute and innocent stage passed and no one gave a rat's ass about them anymore they had to grow or die? It made a skewed sort of sense and he looked at Dog again. “I’m serious. You stay here. Dunno what’s down there. You’re snack size right now. Let’s not tempt anybody, right?”

Dog cocked his head and looked at him curiously and Riddick sighed. Here went nothing. He moved forward into the cave and relished the darkness, pushing his goggles up so he could see clearly. 

8888

Dog had not learned to stay. It was a good thing for it that there weren’t any of those mud creatures in the caves. No other predators that he could see either. He guessed the animals on the savanna preferred dens in the scrub or against hillocks. It wasn’t a true savannah, more like a cross between prairie and tundra. It was all hardy scrub grass that drew moisture from the ground, rocky outcroppings, and miles and miles of miles and miles.

So he set up what could laughably be called housekeeping in the caves. A few animal skulls for dishes, skins for bedding, though dog was surprisingly warm for such a small thing. And of course, his shiv making supplies. If there was one thing he was good at that didn’t directly involve killing, it was making shivs. 

He still had the huge metal sword thing and it was handy to have against some of the larger predators that wandered the plains. But it wasn’t exactly tool sized or even something he wanted to use a lot. He didn’t know what it would be called technically. It didn’t matter much. Not like he’d be having a discussion if he had to use it. When he pulled his shivs, the conversation tended to be over before it started.

Riddick frowned at the big weapon and set it aside. The problem with Necro metal was that it was inelastic. He’d punched through it easily with his own shivs but he hadn’t had much of a choice as to materials when it came to weapons, not at first. At the time he’d still been using the leg guards as a brace for his broken shin. Bone tended to be brittle as well, but it was easier to work with and more plentiful than the Necro metal. 

Necro armor was crap for armor and pounded flat, cut to shape and honed into a blade hadn’t increased the quality any. So some good shivs were absolutely necessary.

Dog whined curiously and padded over to him with a hopeful look in its eyes. It was doing that sprouting thing all adolescent animals went through and was constantly hungry. He knew the feeling. It was definitely time to hunt again. But first, he needed to make a thorough exploration of the cave system. He might see in the dark, but he still didn't want anything sneaking up on him while he was resting. And sleeping under an obelisk for the rest of his time on the planet had very little appeal. 

8888 

Another dream from Shirah. Another night wasted arguing in his head with a woman he wasn’t even sure existed on the physical plane. She liked to bitch about things he'd learned over the years. She'd been especially unhappy with the goggles he'd forced the Necros to make for him. Corrective lenses gave him back the full range of colors he'd had before his eyes began to shine. He'd liked being able to see colors again even if there weren't a lot of rainbows on the Necropolis. Not a lot of color there at all really. It had been more of an exercise to see if he could make the Necros do something for him particularly. His vision still wasn't perfect but on a landscape like this one he wasn't completely blinded during the day. Shirah had been pissed though.

Shirah being angry was pretty much a constant since he'd started having the dreams. If she wasn't nagging at him about his destiny then she was talking about Alpha Furyans and their responsibility to their people. Like the nightmares he'd lived with for years weren't bad enough. Like the massive mind fuck of the idea that he was supposed to avenge his entire race wasn't sufficient. But even with Zhylaw dead, Shirah still wasn't satisfied. She wanted him to do something else. With him being on this planet...well. That just made her worse. She was constantly harping at him about Furya. Like he wasn’t well aware that this wasn’t his home planet.

The Necros had dropped him on the farthest edges of the star systems that called themselves the Alliance. His question when he’d seen it marked on the charts had been Alliance of what. History had never been his strong suit. The Necro navigator had just shrugged and Riddick had mentally made a note to find out later. Later turned out to be more than four years after his initial question. Time had a way of getting away from him when he wasn’t on the run or counting the days until an escape opportunity presented itself.

It was strange the Necros hadn’t pushed him to conquer all those worlds. It wasn’t like they were new or unknown. It was at least five weeks travel in cryo from the Alliance systems to more populated space. It was a full two months from Helion Prime. Of course the Necros didn’t travel at the same speed as the rest of the ‘Verse. They moved at their own pace, methodical, implacable, and left nothing behind them but dead planets. In his time as Lord Marshall he’d put a stop to the Ascension protocol and steered the Necros away from more populated space, ostensibly moving towards the Underverse. But even taking into account the slow travel of the Necromonger fleet it had taken a while and the Necros hadn’t been happy with the lack of conquering. 

He’d pretty much made up his mind that he wasn’t going to be responsible for the mass murder that he equated with the Necros method of conversion. That had been when the assassination attempts had really begun to pick up. And he’d made up his mind to figure out a way out. A way home. Which, had in turn, led him right to where he was. On the farthest reaches of the Alliance systems, a full weeks travel in cryo from the nearest world.

The Necros hadn’t pushed forward towards the Alliance though. Maybe Vaako just wanted to go to the Underverse. Maybe the Necros had met a few of the Alliance folks themselves and decided they weren’t worth the trouble of conquering. Riddick grinned, he hadn’t spent much time on these planets though his name was known ‘Verse wide as wanted. 

According to history, these systems were the origination of the human species in this section of space. All the folks who'd settled planets outside the Alliance had started out there. They'd just kept moving further out, developed cryo ships for the longer hauls and kept on going. Pretty soon there were planets that spoke more English and had begun to leave the Chinese out of the language entirely. There were planets had adopted some other language as the second tongue, like Helion Prime, English and Arabic. English was still pretty predominant though, thankfully. He had a decent command of Chinese but his English was better. Not that his language could be considered couth in either tongue. 

Riddick had smirked when he’d looked into some of the recent happenings in the Alliance. He'd been fairly well isolated on the Necropolis, and he didn't like cortex screens in his rooms. There was always a low grade buzzing noise in his ears and the light bothered his eyes. So he'd hadn’t exactly been up on current events and he’d missed something huge. At least until he'd gotten bored in the six months before he'd decided to head for Furya and took to looking at the newsfeeds on the cortex. 

Apparently, there’d been a huge hullabaloo some years back. A wave had gone out and taken over every cortex, every news screen and shown exactly how the monsters known as Reavers came to be. Someone had decided to mess with a newly terraformed planet called Miranda. And the results hadn’t been what they’d expected.

There’d been rumors, of course as to who was behind the wave. But the ‘verse gossip was strangely silent on that. He’d seen the wave, seen that woman scientist trying to get her word out, and being killed horribly for her trouble. He’d decided then and there that if a merc ever tried to compare him to a Reaver he was justified in killing the son of a bitch simply for character defamation.

It was curious that the Necros had dumped him here. Had they just picked the closest deserted planet? Or was this on the way to Furya? Had Krone decided to dump him here or had it been Vaako’s plan from the start? He’d bet on Vaako, Krone hadn’t struck him as particularly bright. Not really a long term planner. Not that it mattered much. The Necros were well on their way to the Underverse by now and good fucking luck to them.

Riddick whistled for Dog and stood up. Enough thinking and speculating. Time for some exploring and hunting. Action. Get his blood going and stop him thinking about that crazy blonde Furyan in his dreams.

He couldn't stop wondering though. If he managed to get to an Alliance library on a core world, one of the true libraries, would he find Furya listed as a world colonized? Would he be able to locate it on star charts? The Necros claimed they'd erased Furya from all the maps but they did tend to be...egocentric regarding their own capabilities. And they wouldn't have left the Core worlds untouched if they'd gone through and destroyed the records. The Alliance probably wouldn't even exist if the Necros had come through this space.

Riddick moved through the darkness and began to make a mental list. If he ever got off this rock, he had things to do. Definitely.

8888

River shuddered and gasped for air as Luna pulled off the cryo cuff. Even being in the box that Si-- that she'd traveled in to get onto Serenity hadn't been as bad as the cryo cuffs. They cut off sensation but her mind never stopped. She could hear the mercs, dreaming in their death sleep, knew she should be breathing but she wasn't. The first time she'd come out of cryo she'd had a panic attack. Luna had the presence of mind to keep the rest of them away from her until she'd calmed down. She'd been like a wild animal, fingers curled into claws, shrieking and wailing about death in sleep and the evil she saw in dreams. 

Cryo was awful. Without physical control, she’d had nothing to help her concentrate, nothing to close off the torrent of thoughts and feelings and visions that flooded her mind. Regaining her body and being surrounded by the mercs had nearly thrown her back into insanity until she'd shut everything down and focused on breathing and only breathing.

She'd been lucky Luna was so religious. He hadn't understood what was wrong but he'd talked very seriously and calmly to Santana about none of them being around except him when she first came out of cryo. "Maybe it's 'cause she's a Seer," Luna had said earnestly. "But I don't think she's all the way under like the rest of us."

"There wasn't anything in her sheet that mentioned it," Santana had spoken slowly, his snake eyes studying her. "But then, they tried to hide she was a Seer too. Just gave the basics." He'd looked at Luna, "All right. You were right about her being easier to understand when we didn't use her. We'll try it your way with the cryo cuffs."

He'd made a circling motion over his head and the rest of the mercs had followed him. Luna had crouched next to her and offered a cup of water. By then she'd calmed down enough to take it and sip carefully, "So we're on Lilac, and then we're headed out to a skyplex and after that Aquila Major. The plan is to resupply here and pick up any new sheets with contracts we might be able to fill." 

River nodded her understanding and looked at him, "The mad men, the ones who never stop screaming. Paint their ships with red and live for blood and rage. They are close here. Should not leave the system in cryo, not until we are out of range. They will take the ship; make us all wake and tear into us. They never lie down. Will make us all scream. Board us, rape us to death, use our skins for clothing and eat us. And if we're very lucky they'll do it in that order."

Luna might not have been from the Alliance worlds originally but he recognized enough of her words to go from point A to point B. "Reavers?" He gulped, "Yeah, I don't guess cryo is a good idea while they're around."

"Many killed 'round the time of the Miranda wave," River whispered, "But they are vast. And they never stop. They never rest. Like sharks. If they stop moving they die." She looked up at the ceiling, picturing the sky. "Lilac is too close to them. Get the sheets, get supplies and leave. Don't stop at the whorehouses until the skyplex. The skyplex is out of their range, far enough from Blue Sun for safety."

Luna had nodded and gotten up to use the comm system. It had been a tense fifteen minutes of conversation while he recalled all the men. Santana had gotten his sheets and Diaz had gotten more supplies while the rest of the men were grumbling about no shore leave.

"Shut it," Santana had snarled at them as the last, Nunez climbed back on to the ship. "The girl says Reavers are close. And right now, I don't know if I care how close. Any close is too close. So we're taking off. We've got supplies for two days, that'll get us far enough out that we can go into cryo until we hit the skyplex. We'll spend a longer time there."

Falco had been muttering about visiting the whorehouse and they had no guarantee that the Reavers were going to come right then. River had shuddered and wrapped her arms around her legs, grateful that Luna was between her and the merc. Luna believed in her ability to prophesy and Santana believed in Precogs or Seers. His belief had become more firm when she’d been babbling about a Judas and thirty pieces of silver and he’d been prepared for betrayal thanks to Luna’s translation of her words. The rest of the men would take more time but the important thing now was to leave Lilac. Get out of range and hope the Reavers didn’t come sniffing too far.

8888

Pain. 

It was supposed to be over. They wanted the visions more than the release. But the burning and the tearing was proof enough that it was happening again. 

Time to go away for a while. 

Won't stay here. 

Won't.

8888

Her eyes ached. They were dry as if she'd been staring at the cortex screen too long. Her mouth was dry too, her lips chapped. And she hurt, badly between her thighs...oh. 

She remembered and wished she hadn't. Falco had gotten impatient. He'd lost his money in a poker game and couldn't afford a whore. So he'd sent Luna off for some supplies and uncuffed her wrist from the chair. She didn't remember anything more than the first few minutes, though in dreams the memories would come unburied and she'd be forced to deal with them.

"Girl?" Luna's voice was gentle, he was squeezing water into her mouth and she swallowed reflexively.

"She is here," River nodded slowly and focused her eyes on his young face. She blinked and drew back as Santana's grimy face appeared next to Luna's.

"Good. You're back," He nodded and set some sheets before her. "Luna, get some food in her, some water and then she looks at these," He tapped the sheets. "Need to know a good target. Something to get us some ready cash right? Easy huh?"

River nodded and picked the sheets up, "Food after. Sheets..." She tilted her head and looked at the image, tilting the sheet gave her a profile view. "Could take this one, but he has a crew that will cause trouble. Killing the crew is the only way to take him and that will likely lead to arrest."

"Huh," Santana took that one and studied it. "Maybe another time then, when he is guaranteed to be alone."

River frowned, "Visits Madam Wisteria's every seventh day. An appointment. No crew then." She looked up at Santana, "Gun check at the whorehouse. No gun check on the street though."

The boss merc's grin almost made her shudder. River wouldn't have given him that much if she hadn't seen the sort of whores the man in question favored. He liked them smaller than she was, and younger; fourteen or younger if he could get them. The 'Verse was better off with his head in a box.

"This one..." River picked up another sheet and shuddered violently. It fell from her fingers, "Death. Blood..." She shook her head. "Not now. Maybe not ever. Payday will lose you every man on the ship. Man likes bombs."

"And this one?" Luna handed her a sheet and she tilted her head curiously.

"White collar crime, wanted for embezzlement," She let her eyes unfocus and tilted her head. "Soft target. Pays for new identities. Accounting is considered lucrative. Criminals pay to keep him on staff. Territory of the Tongs. Easier for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle. Much layout in bribes and fees before a monetary return on investment is seen."

"Luna, can you make sense of that?" Santana hadn't understood one word in ten of what she'd said."

"She's saying we'll have to shell out a lotta money before we catch the guy. He's useful to a lotta people. So they'll pay to keep him. Might not be worth it," Luna translated for her.

Santana looked at the sheet she'd given him, "We'll go with this one for now. Try to figure out the rest later. I've got more but one job at a time right?" He strode away, "Get her some food and water. I want to be wheels up in an hour."

River had looked at Luna and tilted her head, "She is useful? She will not be..." She shuddered.

Luna hastened to reassure her, "Nah, Falco got his ass kicked for that stunt. Santana had Diaz put a hurt on him. He's had those sheets for two whole days waitin' on you to come out of it. He was talking about putting Falco's bits in a box so you'd know it wouldn't happen again. I think he was hoping that might bring you out of it sooner."

"Had to go away," River said softly. "Couldn't...not again. She can't." She shook her head.

"I'll bring you some water, you can wash," Luna had given her a cup and she'd smelled soup in it. She saw him filling a bucket with water and caught the intent in the minds of Nunez and Falco. The bucket would suffice. She would not endure them again.

8888

The bright side of her half-hearted suicide attempt was that none of the men ever raped her again. Santana had beaten her black and blue after she’d been revived and smacked Luna around for his stupidity in leaving her alone with a bucket of water deep enough to drown in. She wasn’t allowed to bathe alone after that. Luna would turn his back after presenting her with rags and a small bowl of water but he wouldn’t give her privacy for another attempt. 

That led her to the not so bright side. Before she'd had a wrist shackled to a chair or she was watched when she wasn't cuffed. Santana had decided that if she was going to attempt to kill herself then she couldn’t be trusted with any freedom. So steel chains ran from her ankles and one wrist to a hook in the ceiling above her cryo net. She wasn’t given anything she could possibly hone to an edge, wasn’t even allowed a brush or comb for her long hair. Now it was a snarled mess that reached her waist and had become a convenient way for Santana to yank her around if he was feeling meaner than usual. 

When she wasn’t chained in place on the ship Santana had her attached to his belt like a dog on a leash. If she didn’t speak quickly enough she’d get smacked. If she didn’t make sense, she’d get hit. They’d stopped at one station on a world of ice and snow, and Santana had watched her closely but she’d presented nothing but a blank face. His mind had been filled with a sheet, an image of a face half covered by goggles and the hope of picking up a trail. She’d gotten impressions of mercs, three of them killed by the man Santana sought and knew this man was a huge prize to be caught. But the man wasn’t on this world anymore. And even were she inclined to help Santana find a bounty, it wouldn’t be this man who killed mercs as easily as he took a breath. So she kept her face blank and her tongue silent and simply looked around at the ice and snow with interest. They’d left the world after only a day.

Twice they’d come near the Alliance systems, and once there had been talk of setting down on Miranda, for salvage purposes. Santana had heard about the dead world and thought it might be worth a look. She’d looked at Luna and she’d known her eyes had been wide and her face chalky. She’d been able to feel her heart beating in her ears, pounding with adrenaline. Luna had nudged Santana and the boss had come to crouch in front of her, “All right girl, lookin’ like a ghost. What’s wrong with Miranda?”

She’d stared at him, “He did not see the Wave? The Miranda Wave? Heard of Miranda but not of the Wave?” There was a slow shaking of heads from all the mercs and she shook her head in amazement, “Should read up on the news feeds when out of cryo. Do a search on the Cortex. Miranda wave. That’s all. Won’t ever need to ask again.” 

Mr. Universe had been right, nothing stopped the signal, but men who traveled in cryo for months at a time, didn't care about anything except contracts and bounties, and paid no attention to newsfeeds tended to not hear things that shook the 'Verse. The Alliance had always kept to itself, not interested in the planets beyond its reach if it couldn’t control those worlds. The other planets outside the Alliance seemed to feel the same way about it. They were unruly, ungoverned and liked it that way. But the wave had reached every single one of the worlds spinning. 

Diaz had shrugged at her, "We heard the world was dead. Heard that they'd tried to cover it up, but never heard what happened to make it that way. Unification war? Like Shadow I guessed, bombed back to the stone age." River shook her head slowly and looked at Luna's back.

Luna had taken a seat at the terminal on the co-pilot’s side and run a search. “Son of a gun,” He whistled and brought the wave up. The rest of the crew crowded around the screen.

Doctor Carron’s words flowed through the air, anguished and River wished she could unhear what she had memorized long ago, “…Just a few of the images we've recorded and you can see it isn't... it isn't what we thought. There's been no war here, and no terraforming event. The environment is stable. It's the Pax, the G-32 Paxilon Hydrochlorate that we added to the air processors. It's...”

Her voice went on and on until the gunshot and her screams and Diaz cursed and fumbled to turn the screen off but they’d already seen and could not unsee it. As one they all turned to look at River and she shuddered, “Here’s us.” She pointed in the air as if to a ship in the sky, “Here’s Miranda. And all the space in between, is Reaver territory. You wanna sail through that, you’re signin’ up to be a banquet.” 

“I’ll be a son of a—“ Vargas shuddered and shook his head.

River looked at them coldly, “Not from the Alliance systems, didn’t understand. Never been this far into our space before. Stayed on the edges, away from Miranda. There are reasons cryo travel isn’t popular here on the Rim. Reavers like cryo ships. Like ‘em like a baby likes candy. Gobble ‘em up, rape you to death man or woman, skin you alive and let you die. They feed on terror, on hate and rage. Make you stare at all of it until you can only become one of them, madness feeding on your brain.”

“How do you know?” Luna asked, “How do you know what happens to survivors?”

River laughed, a high near hysterical sound, “Reavers don’t leave survivors. They leave Reavers-to-be. Only way to survive is to not be where they are. Be silent, be still. Hide in the vault and pray they go before you run out of air. Pray you have enough bullets to give mercy to all your folk and still have one left over for yourself.”

“Right,” Diaz, ever practical spoke up. “I vote we not sign up to be a banquet.”

“I think you are right,” Santana had nodded.


	3. Chapter 2: Come Away O Human Child

Considering her situation, things could have been worse, River thought to herself wryly. A boot kicked her in the hip and she squeezed her body farther away from the line of traffic going into and out of the ship. She'd been stuck with these pigs for more than a year and they still didn't have any idea that she was more of a Reader than she was a Precog or Seer as Luna called her. Though with enough practice, even forced as it was, she was getting better at Seeing what was to come. 

The first month had been the worst. Santana had decided against selling her back to Blue Sun for the bounty. He’d decided to keep her as a pet, a useful pet. After four days of their...company she'd been babbling, her mind half gone with the rape and the filth of their minds and bodies pressing against hers. Somehow, in her gibbering, twisted words and biblical references, it had come out that one of the men was going to betray Santana during the job they had lined up.

Santana hadn't believed her at first, in fact he had hit her even harder in order to shut her up. Luna had heard her too, and explained the references to Santana, though the head merc had scoffed at the time. But he'd come back with a bullet crease in his arm and a thoughtful expression on his face. The wound had looked less out of place than the expression, in her opinion. 

It had taken a while for Santana to figure out that the more she was abused, the more she retreated into her mind and the less she talked. The less she spoke, the fewer predictions there were. He'd put Luna in charge of her.

Luna's mind was...very young. The boy had been barely eighteen if he was a day. But he'd kept the men from her after she'd gone mindless for two days after Falco had raped her again. He'd made the connection, not Santana. He'd stood in front of her and argued with the crew boss. Pointed out that the worse she was treated the less sense she made. That he'd only been able to understand her because she'd quoted the Bible.

"He believes. Knew someone else who believed once," River had whispered to him as he held the bucket of water for her to dip a rag in. It was the closest she'd come to a bath since she was taken, turning her back to him and trying to cleanse herself of their seed beneath her skirt. In the back of her mind was nothing but gratitude to Si--, to her brother for his last gift to her. She’d grown, become a woman and he’d given her inoculations against disease, an implant against conception. It had been time for that he’d thought. "Believed hard. Never questioned why. Lost his faith. No such thing as a better world." She had tilted her head and looked at him, "Be not overcome with evil but overcome evil with good."

"Romans, twenty one twelve," Luna had murmured. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

River had shaken her head at him with a sigh, "God wants no part of this business." She’d turned her face away when he would have dabbed at the blood on her lip, a deep cut that would surely scar, "Entered the den of iniquity willingly and of his own free will."

Luna hadn't minded that she made no sense half the time during that first month. When she'd begun speaking in something other than half gibberish bible quotes he'd been cautiously hopeful that she'd be all right. That hope had almost disappeared after Santana had beaten her for not seeing a three man team where he'd been expecting only two. After that she'd stopped speaking unless prodded and Luna didn't prod. He was convinced that her Sight was a gift from God. She'd stopped trying to persuade him otherwise, but the upside of his conviction was that he would go out of his way to try and interpret her predictions; especially if she referenced the bible. 

It had been very difficult to keep her sanity in the first six months, to provoke the Sight and to manipulate the mercs. It had gotten easier when she’d been able adjust the settings on one of the energy rifles. It was something easily fixed if it was looked for, but lethal if it wasn’t found before the weapon was fired. And for a cunning mind and nimble fingers on a carelessly placed weapon, the settings were laughably easy to disrupt. 

A little sabotage and then a few phrases to Luna about plasma fires and burns, things behaving as they should not, cryptic but just clear enough. Luna had convinced Santana to do an overhaul on the weapons before the job. Since she’d been nowhere near the rifles as far as they knew, it seemed like a legitimate precognitive vision. And Santana had begun to believe more firmly in what she Saw and trust her when she made predictions. 

It didn’t stop the beatings. After all Santana and the others were still pigs. But after two days of catatonia, and Luna had put his foot down, she wasn’t raped again. Then they found another girl. River felt bad for her, but at the same time she was grateful she wasn’t the one under those men anymore. The men hit her more often, but she’d trade fists and bruises for rape any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Santana had the bad habit of backhanding her, the others of kicking her out of the way. And if Santana lost his temper, well, the merc leader had beaten her into unconsciousness more than once. She’d hedged her predictions a bit too carefully on those occasions and he thought that a thrashing would remind her to See better.

She remembered that she'd been pretty once. There was nothing remotely pretty about her anymore. The cut on her lip had scarred; a thin line that bisected her lower lip, noticeable due to the way it shaped her mouth and drew attention to her lips. She was never without bruises these days, disguising any fineness of feature. And she had scars over her ribs from being kicked with steel-toed boots. Luna always cleaned and tended her wounds carefully but he couldn't stop six men, all larger than he was, none of whom had any respect or concern for her body if they couldn't use it to slake their lusts. Her hair was a tangled mess and Santana frequently used it to drag her around if he favored a more personal touch than her chains. She was hardly graceful with shackles binding her movements and she couldn't know how badly her skills had eroded while her body was restrained. Cryo...was imperfect. Her muscles seemed functional; as if nothing had atrophied. Still she couldn't be certain until she'd moved around, tested them. Cryo did nothing to silence her mind but at least her body slept.

Now though… Now things were getting interesting. The planet hummed with life, sleeping mostly, a haze of alien minds overlaying the tundra. The bright dots on the horizon were the animal minds to her inner vision. And one brilliant mind, powerful, like nothing she’d ever felt, watching the merc station. Watching the mercs hurrying around, setting up their fèi tóng làn tiě equipment. The impression she got from the watching mind was that he considered the mercs to be less troublesome than ants.

River looked at the locker with her weapons and boots and sighed. There was no way she could get them and get free of the shackles before someone, Luna most likely, came back. She didn’t want to kill him if she could help it. But she wanted her sword, her knives and axe and guns. She wanted her boots. She wanted her freedom gorramit and if she couldn’t escape this time, well she’d give the thought of suicide more consideration. She had no illusions; if she truly decided to die, she could manage it before any of the considerably less than genius men could stop her. She had enough control over her body to keep her breathing even through a fight with Reavers and that had been when she was half insane. She knew exactly how to stop her heart. That was just one way to die. She knew dozens.

Santana came back on the ship and unlocked her chains from the bulkhead. He locked the clamps around his belt and roughly jerked her to her feet, hauling her off the ship and shoving her so she sprawled in the dirt nearby. Then the merc boss busied himself with setting up the Cyclops and River pushed herself upwards, sitting as far away as she could. The shackles were on both ankles and one wrist, joined chains that didn’t allow her much freedom of movement. They were old, with manual locks; the electronic shackles were used on their other prisoners. Which meant if she got a length of stiff wire she could pick them. River took a few minutes to scan the horizon, finding that watching mind effortlessly and moving on from its position before anyone noticed her scrutiny.

The watching mind sharpened with interest. It had to be the convict they all sought, Riddick, and she could almost feel eyes on her. Speculative thoughts, interest, some sympathy before Santana jerked at her chains again and hauled her inside the station. 

8888

It was a decent rock to live on. It wasn’t Furya but it was all right. Riddick looked down at his pal, sprawled at his feet, eyes on the horizon where clouds gathered in the distance. Dog was right. Rain would make existence on this really screwed up planet a lot less pleasurable. They’d been lucky one storm had blown past them; the rain hadn’t hit the caves or the tundra where they hunted. But it was only a matter of time before it came their way. He'd halfway enjoyed his little sojourn here, getting back in touch with the animal side. Though he could have done with a few less dreams from Shirah, urging him onwards. Onwards to gorram where? If he’d had a clue as to where Furya was he’d have hit that emergency beacon a lot sooner. The waking vision from that nagging woman had set his teeth on edge. But it had been the rain that decided him. 

Setting up his traps and laying his plans out had taken a little time. But after he’d activated the emergency beacon, he hadn’t exactly had to run. There were plenty of mercs not quite stupid enough to take him on. And then there were the ones who thought they were smarter…like the ones approaching in atmo.

Busy little bees. Riddick smirked to himself as he watched the mercs set themselves up. A robot perimeter system, plenty of guns and a decent, if not wonderful, ship. Things were about to get interesting. The head idiot in charge was posturing, striding around giving orders that had his men scrambling.

Then the head merc went back onto the ship and came out with something a lot more interesting than a gun or another robot. A girl. She looked tiny compared to the men, even the one with peach fuzz still on his chin. But she was chained up, shackles on her ankles and wrist, with chains leading to the head merc’s belt. And she didn’t look happy about where she was. Her hatred and disdain for the mercs was in every line of her body. He couldn’t tell much about her other than the general impression of being diminutive, with a tangle of dark hair that fell down her back. Her head was moving slowly as if she was scanning the horizon, pausing slightly when she looked in his direction, for all the world as if she knew where he was, before continuing to turn. 

The boss had shoved her down, out of his way and she'd hit the ground pretty hard. As Riddick watched she sat up carefully, tattered skirt tucked around her legs, knees under her chin, with her arms around her legs, out of the way and as far from the boss merc as she could. He could see the tangle of hair pulled over one shoulder and slender white hands fussing with it but the details of her face and body were well hidden. He was trying to figure out what she was to them, apart from the likelihood of being their sex toy, when the head idiot in charge jerked on the chains and practically dragged her inside the station.

Riddick waited a moment but there weren’t any screams drifting towards him on the wind so either she wasn’t being raped or she’d learned there was no point in protesting it. For her sake, he hoped for the former. For his sake too. Knowing what had happened to Kyra with the mercs she'd signed on with, theorizing what had happened when she was a kid, he wasn't sure he could take the physical resemblance and a circumstantial one on top of it. This girl had a similar spirit of defiance...like Kyra. He could admire how she carried herself even chained up. The boss merc came out of the station and strode purposefully towards the ship. After a moment, the smallest merc with the peach fuzz went inside the ship and the boss came back out.

Moments later Riddick frowned at the sound of a screech from inside the ship. It was a woman's voice. He wouldn't have pegged Peach Fuzz for a rapist. But a few minutes afterwards a completely different girl burst out of the ship at a limping run and headed across the tundra, straight in his direction. He could see the desperation on her face despite his distance, she wanted to get away from those men, and even the inhospitable planet was preferable. As he watched her running straight towards him the boss merc lifted his gun and Riddick knew why she’d been set free. One last head trip on the part of the boss. One last mind fuck. Give her freedom and then take away…everything.

The shot was like a cannon across the still ground. It blew a hole in the girl’s middle, sent her sprawling forward to meet his eyes where he crouched behind the outcropping. He cursed that she hadn't gotten a little further, behind the rocks, where he could do something instead of sitting and watching her bleed. Nothing he could do for this one. He couldn’t even try to bury her until he could be certain of the perimeter.

The other girl though…he’d planned on screwing with the mercs anyway. That was always an enjoyable pastime. He’d have to see if the girl in chains wanted to play too, assuming that spine stayed steely when she wasn't in chains. He'd seen some convicts like that, long as they were locked up they were badass. Get 'em free and they folded like cheap cards.

Then the head merc started posturing, saying his name loudly, and talking about putting Riddick's head in a box. Riddick shook his head, mercs never learned. Always with the show of strength first...conciliations second, after his blood was up and he'd just as soon kill them as look at them. So now, the game changed. These mercs, he’d play for blood with them. The next set to show up… And there was bound to be another set, the creed was greed after all; he’d see how they behaved.

He listened half-heartedly and made sure his eyes met those of the dying woman. She was breathing her last, dying right in front of him, and all he could do was keep his eyes on her. Give her the dignity of knowing he'd remember her. A single tear slipped out of her eye and dripped down her nose as Santana finally shut his mouth. And the last of the light left her eyes.

It was kinda funny; Santana had been so busy shouting into the wind that he was on his way into the station before he heard the other ship in the atmosphere. Riddick tilted his head and looked upwards, sure enough, here was another merc ship, come to claim the bounty. This ship looked newer, cleaner, a classier clan of mercs.

The new ship landed even though he was sure the first merc boss was trying to wave them off. Then it was just a matter of retreating a bit farther from the perimeter while they were distracted. They'd be having a pissing contest if he knew mercs. 

He watched from a minimum safe distance and crossed his fingers that this second batch was just as stupid as the first. And that the first were territorial. It'd be a damn shame if that girl in the station had to put up with brand new 'company'. Not that he'd mind killing a few rapists. But he could do that even if they didn't try to prove their manhood while he was in hearing distance. If he thought God would listen, he might have actually prayed for her, in Kyra's memory. But God doesn't and he wouldn't, so all he could do was get out of ear shot before he lost his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chinese Translations:
> 
> fèi tóng làn tiě - scrap metal / a pile of junk
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> Be not overcome with evil but overcome evil with good - Romans; 21:12
> 
> Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. - Psalms, 23:4


	4. Chapter 3: Where There Is No Struggle There Is No Strength

River listened as the new mercs politely rode roughshod over Santana's crew. She would not dignify the thugs with the designation of 'clan'. They were nothing like children or family and didn't deserve the title.

The first man through the door was older, with piecing blue eyes that took in the interior of the station and her presence chained to the pillar with one glance. The next was a woman. She was just as tall as the man, blonde and strongly pretty. The last two were a black man, skin darker than Zoe's and a man with coppery skin who reminded her of the pictures she'd seen Si--, in an encyclopedia of the Native Americans from Earth That Was. River shoved the pain away, slammed the door in her mind and shut the memories behind it. Information and events. Not people. She'd go mad otherwise.

"Oh, and one more thing," Santana poked his head in the door. "Don't talk to my girl there. Don't touch, don't talk, don't even look."

The first man looked at Santana with an incredulous expression, "You have to chain your woman up? Seriously?" 

"Not my woman," Santana sneered in River's direction. "She's a tight little shǎ bī, but I've had enough of her. My girl. My property." He left again and River rolled her eyes.

"Santana is foolish but mean," River said quietly to no one in particular. "Mean as a snake and twice as slippery." She shrugged.

"Are you all right?" Johns wasn't looking at her but he was clearly addressing her. "Why does he have you locked up? Are you a bounty?" 

River smiled slightly, "He keeps me. Keeps the girl for the edge. Mr. Boss Johns." She nodded at him and then to each of them in turn, "Dahl, Moss, and Lockspur." Their shocked expressions turned her smile more than a little mad. "See? He keeps her for a reason." She deliberately avoided the question of any contract on her. There was no way she'd give another merc that sort of ammunition and Santana would never mention it. There was a reason no one used her name after all. After more than sixteen months of her being useful, all of Santana's men ignored how Santana had found her. No one wanted to lose the one thing that helped them stay profitable. She was too useful to risk to loose lips. Loose lips sank ships. 

Luna came in the station then and looked at the new mercs and their dazed expressions before he muttered under his breath and moved over to River. "You can't talk to them," He reminded her quietly. "You know what he'll do."

"His good luck charm," River nodded solemnly. "She is his edge. It is still ownership. Should be a four letter word."

"Yeah..." Luna sighed. "Can you tell me anything that will help us catch this guy? It'd be a big payday, it'd put him in a real good mood. Good moods are good right?"

River nodded again, "He speaks the truth. But what you ask..." She closed her eyes and searched the world, searched for probabilities, did her best to provoke the sight. In a few minutes she had far too much insight into how bad things could go. Her Read of the convict’s brain was especially convincing. She calculated what she could say without giving away the plans she’d Read. Translating that into something Luna could interpret didn't take long for a genius brain.

"Seeks the man with poison in his veins. Eyes in the darkness. The cunning of a panther..." Her eyes flew open. "Teeth. Teeth in the ground." She shook her head and gave her best appearance of a struggle for words, "When Moses wished to lead his people from Egypt, his God sent the plagues. The eight plague... we will be beset by the eighth plague." River tilted her head in a way that she knew looked eerie and stared at Luna. The stranger she acted, the more difficult prophecy seemed for her to accomplish, the more he believed it was true. She'd gotten very good at acting as if she was stressed to find the right words when her brain easily translated what she saw into proper understandable language. But the more obscure her words, the more likely they could be misinterpreted. She had to prophesize or she'd be thrashed. She didn't have to make it easy for them. The balance between Seer and Reader wasn't an easy one.

"Plagues?" Moss muttered to Lockspur in confusion.

"Plagues...locusts?" Luna blinked at her and shook his head. "So teeth in the ground, he sees in the dark, he's smart and he's got poison in his veins..." His hand went to his bible, fingering the spine of it thoughtfully as he placed the references she’d made. "Anything else?" 

"He does not lie. He keeps his word," River murmured. "He keeps what he kills. Or he did. For five years. He has the heart... Heart and spirit of Furya." Luna nodded his understanding, his thoughts on the locusts that had eaten every scrap of Egypt's crops. River shook her head at him, "Takes her too literally. Plagues based on cyclical events, natural occurrences. Symbols. Cicadas on a seventeen year life cycle, dormant within the trees for all but four months of their cycle."

Luna didn't get it and it showed on his face but at least she'd tried. At least he wouldn't die, she thought. Truthfully, she wouldn't care as much if he did. He might not have raped her, might not hit her but he hadn't freed her as she'd begged for the first seven months of her existence with the mercs. Calling it a life would be abusing that word too badly.

She sighed, "Teeth in the ground." Luna nodded and hurried out to speak with Santana.

"He's your interpreter?" Johns asked quietly.

River nodded and shrugged, "Precog isn't an exact science," She lied effortlessly. What she Saw, when she actually Saw something and didn't calculate the probability, was as bright and shining as Riddick's mind. She knew exactly what would happen. Saw exactly what was in the ground in part because she'd touched the earth outside and seen the past, what had happened so many times before. It was the same thing Riddick knew; the potential disaster loomed large in his mind.

"So he helps you figure out what things mean," Dahl murmured.

River nodded and shrugged, "Read the cards for them. Make predictions. Clairvoyant. Precognitive. Seer he calls her." She looked up sharply as Santana and the others came in and began to move around the station.

The new mercs ignored her and she remained silent as Santana carried one of his ships nodes towards the locker. "Hey Too Late," Santana called out to Johns. "Need you to pull a node from your ship and store it right here next to mine, okay."

"Oh really?" Johns was studying his map still, not paying Santana much attention. "Why's that?"

"Riddick triggered the beacon to get off world right," It seemed Santana wasn't totally stupid. He slid the node onto the shelf. "Basically, he was calling a taxi."

"And?" Johns really was working hard to ignore Santana but the ugly merc was hard to ignore. River knew that too well, she'd been trying for more than sixteen months.

"And a ship would make a sweet trap right?" Santana walked towards them, spreading his hands expansively. "Fine space, metal walls, jail cell." He grinned very pleased with his thoughts, "It's cool, eh?"

Dahl asked Johns softly, "Is it true half the people you meet are below average intelligence?" River giggled to herself by her column and hid twitching lips behind her hand. The merc woman slanted River an amused look as Santana walked off.

"Let's be sure the ship stays grounded when he comes for them okay?" Santana called as he walked out again.

River listened as Johns had a mental debate with himself and conceded that the idea was not a terrible one despite the source of it. "Dahl, pull a node from the ship."

8888

Riddick watched as the mercs moved around, night was falling and they were lighting up their little area like they were afraid of the dark. If they were smart, they were afraid of the dark. Or at least afraid of him.

The cooler air of the night made sound carry further for some reason, and he could hear the mercs talking. One of them thinking eleven mercs was overkill. He wasn't counting the girl, which was funny, but if she was a captive and not just bait for him that made sense. She wouldn't be part of the team. It had occurred to Riddick that she was bait. She was small enough to look like a child and it wasn't a precise secret that he didn't kill kids. If she was part of their plan then they were smarter than he'd first thought. Of course, that would still put them a half step below amoebas.

Even if she wasn't willing, she could still be bait. But unwilling made her a legitimate captive. And he doubted the mercs could afford an actress who could project her dislike as clearly as that girl had earlier today. If she wasn't part of their plan, she could be an ally. Memories of Kyra flooded him for a moment, her body language, her defiance of anyone who caged her and he shook them off. He had business to take care of; memories wouldn't help him deal with it.

Then he caught a little more of the conversation, "Luna said the girl, she talked about teeth in the ground. Eyes in the dark, like a panther man." One of them sounded a bit nervous, proving he was smarter than the average merc.

"She also talked about the plagues of Egypt man," The first merc, the stupid one, retorted derisively. "I don't think we're gonna have locusts or cicadas or whatever swooping down on us."

"I dunno man, swooping is bad," The second merc said dubiously. "She said he has poison in his veins."

"What, like if we cut him we die?" The first one was sounding stupider by the minute he was so incredulous. "According to Luna she also said he don't lie. When have you ever met a killer or a con who didn't lie?"

"I dunno," The second merc was still sounding nervous. "She said he had a furious heart or spirit or something. Whatever the hell that means." Riddick froze in place and listened hard, "And she said he keeps his word. Keeps what he kills. Five years worth of kills man. Five years he's been gone to ground."

"Whatever man, this is too many guys," The first merc was dismissive.

"You're jinxing our janx," The second warned him. "That's not cool man."

Riddick listened as they continued on past him and thought for a bit. The Necromongers believed in seers. Apparently, the old Lord Marshall had killed his entire race, his entire planet because of a prophecy. Aereon, the old bat, had done her best to make the prophecy come true. It had cost him everything. He hadn’t exactly liked the manipulative Elemental, and saying he disliked his, experience with the Quasi Dead was an understatement of epic proportions. He'd gotten Aereon off the damn Necropolis as fast as he could. Sent her back to Helion Prime and good luck to her. The Greater Quasi Deads...he'd really been debating slitting each one of their throats but hadn't gotten around to it before he left. 

Now these mercs had someone who knew all about him, but from what the mercs were saying it sounded like she wasn't telling everything she knew. If she was like every other Seer he'd met she knew plenty. Seers usually did. The Quasi Dead had a plethora of information they didn't share, just hoarded it. Aereon had been the same damn way. So this Seer had to know a helluva lot more than she was telling if she was typical of the type. She'd probably Seen him with the Necros if she'd talked about keeping what he killed for five years. Funny how it seemed she was just telling the bits that would scare the hell out of the mercs. 

After all if she'd Seen him as Lord Marshall she'd Seen how soft he'd gotten, Seen how he'd gotten left on this rock. She would have Seen him wounded and limping but she didn't tell them that. Didn't seem to tell them anything that would give them confidence. She'd given them truth but it was twisted and confused. Cicadas and teeth in the ground... those were true as far as they went, though the mudbugs were a little more dangerous that a plague of grasshoppers.

Riddick grinned to himself; he'd have to make some time to talk with the girl tomorrow, after he'd whittled the numbers down some. See if he could figure out if she was a Seer or a Reader or something else entirely. If she was predicting the future and holding back his plans, she had control over her gifts, which put her a step ahead of the game. It had been a long time since he’d met anyone interesting. Taking a long slow breath Riddick looked at Dog. Time to get to work, whittling down the numbers so he'd be able to sneak in and out of the station more easily. He clicked his teeth and Dog began to run forward towards the sensor he'd pointed out to it.

The Cyclops made its alert sound, though the noise was a bit too much like those creatures on Hades where he'd met Jack and the Imam for his taste. Yeah that thing would get on his nerves. He grinned as the big merc with the braided mohawk took a shot and seemed to deliberately miss. An animal lover. He could work with that, at least until the big man tried to take his head.

Dog snuck up on the sensor and tugged it out of the ground, happily bringing it back to Riddick. He took a minute to pet and praise the animal before he took hold of the sensor. "Good boy," He let the animal lick his neck and grinned. "Now go on home. Go home." He patted it on the flank and emphasized the order. Dog took off for the caves. Riddick watched for a minute, the happy natured beast following the trail Riddick had left, deliberately moving around the traps.

Bracing himself for the noise, Riddick took the sensor and began to slam it to the ground. The machine went nuts, swinging its bulbous head in circles, up and down, making its noise the whole time. Finally, Santana did something that yanked its power. One of the mercs out by the perimeter shouted sarcastically in relief and Santana shouted back for them to fuck themselves. Riddick smirked. Now the fun began.

He heard the trap go off and the screams of the man caught in them. Heard Santana commanding his man to not move. From the way he kept repeating himself it seemed like the man was not obeying. Not five minutes later another trip was sprung. And the screaming stopped...abruptly.

Of course, at the time that happened he was busy with someone else. Someone named Nunez if the shouting was anything to go by. He killed him quick and snuck off through the dark. Peach Fuzz, ran past him in the dark, never even caught a glimpse of the convict he'd run past. Kid was too green for this crew, worried about the men.

Riddick smiled to himself as he stalked the pair of mercs who were headed to the spot where he'd taken Nunez. The sensible one from before was saying, sarcastically mind you, how eleven was overkill and how the other knew all about Riddick. The two mercs, prudently for once, put their backs to each other and circled, keeping their eyes open for him.

The pool of blood Nunez had left on the rock unnerved them apparently. Problem was, while they were circling, that was when he could sneak up on them. He decided to take the idiot one. The one that was a half step smarter could live a while longer. He seemed to respect what the girl said. And the smarter people were the more fun it was to play mind games with them.

He grabbed the stupid one, Falco, hit him hard on the head, and walked calmly away, dragging him by one foot. He could hear the one merc behind him panicking when he got no answer to his questions. And Peach Fuzz came running up on the halfway smart merc and nearly got killed. Then they were both shooting at him, but by the time they knew where to aim, he was out of their line of sight. Gun mounted lights could only pierce so far in the dark after all, and the distance they could reach was something he'd made a point to learn in the years since he'd started running. When the darkness was your ally, you educated yourself on how to avoid light.

And this piece of garbage he was dragging was alive, which was fine because he was feeling like some answers would be a good idea.

The caves were somewhat comforting. He wouldn't be able to stay in them for long. The hunting party would start up tomorrow he'd bet. But he'd have enough time to give Dog some water and then start questioning the merc.

The man's head was harder than he thought; he was starting to wake up. Not quick enough to get out of the strips of leather Riddick was using to tie him up though. "Hey Falco," Riddick greeted him. He could see the man’s face plainly, "I got bad news."

"I'm already dead," Falco guessed, and Riddick couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well you're stupid but you're quick," He nodded. "Yeah, you're already dead. How you die though, that's up to you." He waited but Falco wasn't biting, "See I have some questions. And if you answer them the way I like, you'll die quick."

"What if you don't like the answers?" Falco wasn't as stupid as he'd sounded out in the field. 

"Well I can smell when you're lyin' so that won't work," Riddick chuckled, low and evil in his throat. "But if you tell the truth, and I don't like what you're saying. Well...we'll see if you can manage the truth. But every lie you tell me, I'm gonna make you hurt. How much you hurt is up to you."

"Man you know I can't tell you about guild operations, or the organization or financial lè sè," Falco started out by being honest, which was a good sign. "What I actually know I'd have to lie about."

"I don't give a shit about your guild. I don't care about your clan or whatever you call yourselves or even your bounties," Riddick sneered. "I'm not a merc. Haven't you heard? I'm Riddick. I'm an animal." The moron thought he cared about the politics and workings of the supposedly powerful mercenaries guild or how they made their money? He knew most of that chòu mǎniào already. And what he didn’t know he didn’t care about.

"I've heard," Falco sounded glum. "If it’s not merc ops what do you want to know?"

"The girl you got in chains," Riddick said slowly. "Santana keeps her on a short leash. What is she to him?"

"She's his..." Falco hesitated and Riddick pressed his knife to the man's balls. The merc’s voice was a little panicked when he spoke again but it was an honest panic. "I don't know what you'd call it exactly. I don't have a fancy education. She's his edge I guess. He said he sees all, knows all, beats all...well she's how he does it."

"And he keeps her in chains because of that?" He didn't think mercs could be much lower but Santana was really sinking fast.

"No, because she was a bounty before he decided to keep her," Falco shook his head. "He burnt everything we had on her, scrubbed the cortex and everything after he sent off to the Feds that she was dead. She's a ghost. Doesn't exist anymore. It’s why Santana don’t want the other crew talkin’ to her. She’s worth more to him as his edge than as a bounty. She’s been with us for almost a year an’ a half. Hardly think about where she come from anymore." 

"So she Sees things..." Riddick frowned. "Why does he keep her chained up?"

"Luna got her a bucket of water once, so she could wash," The merc spoke quickly. "Then he made the awesome mistake of giving her privacy. Five minutes later he checked on her and her head was in the bucket. She nearly downed herself."

"But she didn't get the job done," Riddick narrowed his eyes at the merc. "What set her off?"

"What?" Falco was playing dumb again and Riddick sighed. The smart behavior had been too good to last.

"A girl like that tried to kill herself? If that had been her end game she'd a found a way to do it before then," Riddick explained patiently. "So something set her off. Like an animal with its foot caught in a trap."

"It mighta been, uh, when... Diaz got a little hard up...and he had her again," The merc said quickly.

"You're lyin' Falco," Riddick growled and Dog poked his head up in interest. "Maybe I oughta start on your balls, teach you a lesson..." He slid the tip of his knife over the man's zipper and Falco flinched.

"All right," The merc almost whined. "It was me. It'd been a long time and she's a fine looking piece, or she was. I needed a woman man...and Santana didn't care, not really." He shook his head, "But she went...I dunno, somewhere else in her head. For two days. Didn't eat, or drink, hardly even was breathing. Luna said she was in shock. She was cata...cat something. Cats tonic."

"Catatonic," Riddick snarled at him. "Stuck on a ship with seven of you pigs and you raped her again."

"Yeah she did that," Falco nodded. "After that...Santana was the only one allowed to touch her unless Luna was helping her get cleaned up. Diaz sometimes...but we got another girl then and Santana said no more with the little edge girl. We had to keep her in working order."

"And how do you do that?" Riddick wanted to know. "Beatings twice a day?"

"We'll kick her out of the way sometimes but we don't beat on her," Falco looked like he'd been accused of a heinous crime. "Sure, she might get the back of our hands now and then, but we don't beat her. Santana does that. He's got a temper. Sometimes she don't See stuff as well as he wants. Sometimes things go wrong. She's supposed to See that shit. She don't do her job, she pays for it."

Riddick growled again and the pungent smell of urine filled the air as Falco lost control of his bladder. "So you gang raped her, for what sounds like at least a month. Then only every now and then, until you got another girl to treat like a whore. You hit her every so often and Santana beats her when he gets the urge. You keep her chained up and you don't even let her shower or comb out her hair. But you call me the savage?"

He stood and stalked over to the entrance of the cave to regain his control before he resumed his questioning. He kept hearing Kyra's voice saying 'They slaved me out', in his memory like a cry from his atrophied conscience. "Tell me about where you found her," He said finally. "And what's Luna's job with her. He's the peach fuzz right?"

"Yeah, he's a kid still. When she first started to prophecy he was around, recognized what she was saying as being from the bible. Figured out what she meant when she talked about thirty pieces of silver and wicked tongues." Falco was looking very unnerved. "We found her in this huge marketplace on this little backwater called Deadwood. She was alone. But this guy was following her, just about caught up with her when we grabbed her."

Riddick nodded, "All right. What's her name?"

"I dunno," Falco was telling the truth more's the pity. "Santana knows but he never uses it. Just calls her the girl. Or his edge. He's real possessive."

"Yeah, cause she's a thing to him," Riddick shook his head and took a deep breath. "Now I need to ask you about what equipment you got." Falco squirmed but when Riddick began to draw lines in bloody flesh over his belly, dipping dangerously low, he began to spill everything he knew about both ships, the equipment and weapons. Riddick smirked and continued asking until he was bored with the conversation. "All right Falco. Last question."

"And then you'll kill me quick right?" Falco was sounding hopeful.

Riddick nearly smiled, "I keep my bargains Falco, even if mercs don't usually."

"Okay man," The merc nodded.

"Which ones of your crew raped her?" Riddick asked quietly. "And don't bother to leave anyone out. I don't care if they're dead or alive or in the limbo in between."

"Right, well, uh me. You know that already," Falco nodded. "And Santana... he kept at her the longest... I think he's got problems or something, can't get it up unless he's hitting the girl or she's you know, helpless..." He shuddered.

"Unlike you, you just like straight rape," Riddick interjected sardonically, rolling his eyes.

"Uh," Falco was bright enough to not respond and continue with his list, "Nunez and Rubio. And Diaz. And the guy that Santana had to kill when he turned on him, Feliz."

"Huh, so I got me three rapists tonight, that's handy," Riddick smiled. "Glad I didn't take your pal."

"Vargas? He'd never," Falco shook his head. "He was married once. Some bastard raped and killed her. He's been hunting cons ever since. He's kinda like Luna. Tries to head Santana offa the girl when he can. Diaz...I think to him and the other two its just free sex."

"Well, you don't have to worry about it anymore," Riddick told him coldly. "And when you get to Hell you say hello to Nunez and Rubio. And tell 'em I'll be sending Diaz and Santana along after you." The point of his knife pierced Falco's balls and the merc screamed, "I'm doing this because you raped her. Because you raped that other girl that Santana killed. I don't like civilized scum like you."

Falco wheezed and whimpered and Riddick rolled his eyes before he strung the merc up in the ropes he'd made and opened up the carotid. The man was dead before he knew it. More mercy than the bastard deserved but he didn't have time to play around. It was time to get into place for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chinese Translations:
> 
> shǎ bī - stupid cunt
> 
> lè sè - garbage
> 
> chòu mǎniào - Stinking horse piss


	5. Chapter 4: In the Long, Sleepless Watches Of The Night

When the gunfire started Moss and Lockspur had been ready to go and assist, but Johns had stopped them. River watched as the merc told them that until he said so no one was going out there. The two men had been playing dominos. Dahl had been doing inventory, comparing what was in the station to what was listed in the inventory. 

The six very large steel traps with jagged teeth had set off Johns' alarm bells. He'd warned Santana, which was a pity. River'd been hoping that Santana would walk into one of the traps. But her luck wasn't that good. She'd been shaking her head when Johns had asked Santana if he'd done sweeps of the area. Dahl looked at her sharply and River shook her head again, "No sweeps. No idea of Riddick's intelligence. Saw the payday. Nothing else." She shrugged and looked up at Dahl and the men who were still ready to go out and help. "Be glad you are not out there. Be glad you have not promised to put his head in a box."

Dahl's eyes had widened while Moss and Lockspur looked at each other like they hadn't thought Santana could get anymore stupid.

River had heard each of the men die. And part of her had rejoiced even as she'd reeled with the pain of their deaths. They'd been around her for so long, she knew their minds. She knew their thoughts, disgusting as they were. She knew Nunez had a kid brother he sent pay to. That Rubio had been abused as a child, that Falco had never known a true home or family. She'd felt Falco's fear, heard him answer Riddick's questions, seen through his eyes, and heard Riddick growling his fury at hearing what the mercs had done to her. 

She'd known Riddick's mind was a thing of beauty. But the purity of his thoughts, the animal nature of him, exquisite. Rape was like lying. It made no sense to him. He literally could not understand the act of procreation being perverted into an assault, not deep down. She knew he understood it intellectually, the whys of it, the psychology. He'd been in prisons, he'd seen it. 

But he, personally, had never stooped so low and he had no respect for any man who did. 

In the back of his thoughts, there was a girl, a slender woman with rippling hair, hard eyes, smelling of pain; and fury tinted his mind red when Riddick thought of her life and her death. He compared her to River, to what the merc had said they'd done to River and he'd wanting nothing more than to kill every one of them. 

She sighed slightly and remembered again that purity of thought. Purity of emotion. He knew she wasn't that girl in his memories. But he carried enough of her, of his past with him, that Riddick wouldn't ever sanction another girl being treated in such a way. It was a comfort that the man who considered himself more animal than human believed so strongly in something that wasn't attuned to his own survival. She had to wonder about his intentions for her. But she could find belief somehow that he would help her to stay alive. And finally free. If she was strong enough to help herself.

Santana's mind was raging, wanting answers, wanting to fix this problem, wanting, wanting always wanting more. He was the greediest man she'd ever met. And he was on his way back to the station, furious as hell and ready to take it out on her.

He came storming into the station and right over to her. His favorite method of softening her up for his fists was to kick her. Her leg took the brunt of it and she was dragged up by her hair while she was still trying to avoid the kick. "What the hell was that," Santana shouted at her. "Three of my guys are dead. Three! And do I get any warning from you? About dingo dongos? About an ambush? About tiān shā de (Goddam!) traps? No!"

River looked up at him and waited until she was sure he was done kicking at her, "She said teeth in the ground. What’s here versus what was found. An odd thing to go for a walk." She couldn’t throw the words at him as sarcastically as she wanted but she could remind him of his own stupidity and did so with pleasure.

"Teeth in the ground," Santana mocked and his voice grew vicious. “How fucking many?”

"Predator restraint, forty two inch offset jaws. Teeth in jaws, in steel jaws, six gone from the station, two in use, four remain," River nodded solemnly. Now that they knew the traps were out there it was unlikely anyone else would be caught in them. "Cicadas too. She can't see much more. Death is all around this place. Would prefer to leave now. Please and Thank you."

"That's not bad advice," Moss muttered with a look at Santana as he stormed back out. River could hear the boss merc shouting for his men to run sweeps of the ground, to find the rest of the traps and anything else that Riddick may have left as grisly gifts for them. She smiled slightly; it would take them the rest of the night to find the traps. Riddick hadn't put them all close together, he'd spread them out so the mercs would be even more nervous the longer they went without finding them.

River had watched the two men go through another game and a half of dominos before Santana returned. She'd watched Dahl clean her weapon out of sheer boredom and wished she dared to ask for a knife. No one was stupid enough to give the girl in chains a weapon. No one seemed to consider that if Riddick took it into his head to kill her; she'd have less defense than they did. Not that she believed that. But they did. They truly thought that given his inclination Riddick would slaughter everyone who lived and laugh doing it.

She dozed sitting up, her head against the steel column until it became light. It was only an hour later that she heard voices, the mercs inside had been quiet and considerate of her attempt at a nap. She heard Vargas outside, sealing the bodies of Nunez and Rubio in plastic, "One night, three dead. Not sure I'm loving this trend."

"Two dead, one missing," Luna corrected him.

"Like I said, three dead," Vargas had a shrug in his voice. 

Diaz, with his dark humor, saw the bright side of that gruesome fact, "Well, look at it this way boys. We might all fit on one ship now."

Santana came back to the station; she could hear the scrape of the metal traps over the ground and sighed. Obviously, Diaz and Santana would not die by metal teeth in their throat. She'd held out the faint hope that in their search for them the steel jaws might snap shut. But they'd avoided that fate. Pity. "Diaz, get those other traps back there." He was coming up the ramp into the station now, "Luna, say something...Bible like over these bodies."

He entered the station and took a chair, turning it so he could lean on the back, looking at Johns. "So, maybe...we zero this out." He jerked his head at Johns, "What is your tag anyway?"

"So now you wanna know my name," Johns was relaxed, almost casual as he regarded the other boss merc. "Well I'm not sure I wanna say. Because everyone you know by name, Santana, ends up dead."

River shook her head and backed up against her column, she could have told Johns that taunting Santana was not wise. The grimy merc boss stood and slashed his hand across the table, throwing dishes to the ground.

Dahl glared as he sat back down with a smirk, "You gotta clean this shit up?"

Santana said something in Spanish and Dahl either understood it or didn't like his tone because she punched him in the nose. Then she grabbed his shirt hauled him forward and did it again. River grinned but kept her face hidden behind her knees. It wouldn't do for Santana to see she was pleased he'd been hurt.

Johns said her name, and Dahl stopped with a smirk at Santana. The boss merc smiled slightly, "Watch out for surprise attacks."

Santana held a cloth to his bleeding nose, "Maybe, maybe it’s time to start merging assets, right?"

River shook her head, amazed at the sheer nerve of the man. But Santana wasn't charming, wasn't polite, nerve was really the only way he had of getting what he wanted if bullying didn't work.

Johns' chuckle was less than amused, "So this is your way of asking for my help?"

Santana was still trying to breathe and move his mouth properly, "This is me saying I might need some of your gear." Johns got up and moved towards Moss, Santana following him, speaking through the cloth again. "If some of your guys happen to come attached to some of your gear, I will understand. That's the way it's gotta be."

Johns stopped near Moss and pointed his thumb at the man and the air hog he was leaning against, "So you're asking for my gear help."

"More like that," Santana nodded. River drew her hair over her shoulder and began another seemingly endless attempt to untangle the knots.

"Moss?" Johns looked at his guy.

Moss moved slightly, leaning towards the handle of the hog and pretended to listen. River was grateful her hair hid her smile when Moss turned back to Santana after leaning back down on his hog. "It say nah...bitch." 

"There's your answer," Johns told the other merc.

"What the fuck do you want man?" Santana was losing patience. That was never a good thing for River and she made herself as small as she could. Riddick was nearby, she could feel his mind, but she didn't know where yet.

Johns moved to put on his armor, Lockspur and Dahl helping him into it as he spoke to the other boss, "You know what? I'm gonna fold you in Santana. But I give orders to Dahl. And Dahl's gonna give orders to you. That's the chain of command from this point forward."

River shuddered as Santana's mood turned ugly. "Why am I not loving this plan so far?" He asked in a deceptively mild voice. "Oh, I know, I know. You know why? Because it sucks ass and swallows." Dahl wasn't concerned though, moving past him as Santana blustered, "I'm not taking orders from your pet whore who thinks I won't smack her right back if she—“ Dahl's fist slammed into his head, knocking him down and into the painted steel railing.

As Santana gasped in shock and pain Dahl looked at him, "I don't fuck guys." She turned to continue on, "Occasionally I fuck 'em up if they need it."

River watched carefully as Johns moved over to stand before Santana, who was still on the ground, "Here's what's gonna happen Santana, you're gonna take a back seat. We'll track Riddick down, I promise." River listened to the merc as he spoke so calmly, Santana's opposite in so many ways. "But I want him alive. You give me a day. And after that he's yours to kill."

Santana didn't quite believe what his ears had heard, but River had been listening to Johns' thoughts and she knew exactly what he wanted. She didn't know if he'd get it, but she understood his motivations. Finally Santana confirmed what Johns meant, his tone half skeptical, "You're giving me the bounty?"

Johns nodded, "We pay my crew, fuel costs, and the rest is yours. That's the deal."

Santana was suspicious, River could hear his thoughts that there had to be a catch, "But what is Riddick for you? Not just some convict. What do you want? Why are you here? Who are you?"

Johns looked at him, "My name is Johns." 

He moved forward and began giving his men orders, "Lock down those ships and get those hogs on deck. I will ride with Moss and Lockspur. I wanna non lethal load out, M.O.E.s and phosphor frags to start with." River watched as he picked up a heavy gauge gun, "This is a man that hunts by night. Let's take it to him by day."

He stalked out of the station, all business now, "Diaz, Vargas, show me the spot of the last kill."

River listened as the mercs converged where Falco had been taken. She wasn't concerned with the mercs; Johns and his crew were intelligent but they were no match for Riddick's mind. And definitely no match for hers.

She was more interested in mentally tracking Riddick. Dahl gave orders and then came back into the station. Before River could speak, Dahl grabbed a few things off a shelf and crouched in front of her. "Is my boss walking into a trap?" She held up two protein bars, food for a day and a half if River made it last. Two meals for a normal merc.

River tilted her head and closed her eyes for a moment. Breathing in deeply she opened her eyes, "What was lost will be found. Tracking the hound. No jaws to snap shut. No convict to snatch up." She blinked, "The Dahl understands?"

"We'll find Falco most likely, by following the dog. No traps but no Riddick either, wherever it is that they find Falco," Dahl summarized.

River nodded and sighed tiredly, "She needs to sleep. Watched all night, tried to See. The Riddick...he is like a grassfire...everything in his path is changed."

Dahl nodded her expression half-sympathetic and gave her the protein bars. "Eat them; I'll make sure you get more later on. Johns will too. We can't give you weapons...you'd probably shoot your own foot off if I did. And with Riddick around...if you're unarmed, you're less likely to be a threat, so he's less likely to kill you."

River shook her head, "Half truth." She whispered as she opened a bar and broke off a piece. "Hopes for that. Not sure if she believes." She shrugged, "Haven't had a full belly in sixteen months. Can't eat too fast."

Dahl nodded and left the station and River smiled to herself. She’d wait a bit of time for everyone to become fully immersed in their tasks and she could try to get that slice of metal off the table.

8888

It wasn't easy to sneak into the station, but it had to be done, for various reasons. The mercs were occupied with their different tasks and the girl was the only one inside. Funny though, when he looked in the skylight she was staring up at it as if she was waiting for him. So either her prophecies were a lot easier for her to understand when they stayed in her head, or she was very good at hiding just how much she could do. 

Not that she wasn't preoccupied with a task of her own. She'd gotten to her feet and was balanced on one foot as far from her steel column as her chains would allow and had the other foot outstretched, toes reaching towards a narrow length of metal on the table nearby. For someone chained up she moved very gracefully. He watched for a bit, as she made the attempt, and then with a cautious look at the door tried to fling herself at the table, her free arm outstretched. 

All that accomplished was for her to end up crouched, one hand catching the chains before they hit the concrete floor and rang a warning to the mercs that she was moving around. She was fucking graceful, he’d give her that. But she’d smelt of surprise when she succeeded in catching the chains so he wondered if this was the first time she’d really had any space to move around. If she’d been new to cryo, she wouldn’t know it kept muscle from atrophying while she slept. 

That was when she looked up and rolled her eyes at him, "He could come down and be useful." She remarked conversationally as she moved back to her column and sat, her gaze refastened on the prize she sought.

Riddick almost chuckled; she had a lot of attitude for someone covered in old and fresh bruises, chained up like she was a convict herself. Swinging down to the crossbeams and then dropping lightly to the floor, he offered her a grin, "Why do you want it?" He picked up the piece of metal; it wasn't more than an eighth of an inch wide and only three inches long.

"He knows very well why she wants it," She refused to look at him again and huffed in annoyance as he crouched near her and held it just out of her reach.

"Planning a daring escape?" Riddick wasn't sure that was a good idea. Too much could go wrong between now and the rain. He wasn’t going to have time to help her and if she disappeared they’d all come looking, blaming him, assuming she was dead or he kidnapped her. And the boss merc that liked to push her around was dangerously twitchy. Not professional at all.

"For later," She nodded slowly and looked at him. "To save a life that would be otherwise lost. One of the few worth saving."

He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but she seemed to know what she was talking about. And as long as she wasn't trying to spring her shackles right this minute he could get behind escape plans. They were his specialty after all. She smiled, an expression made no less gorgeous by the scar bisecting her lower lip or the bruises on her face. Slender fingers slid over his hand as she took the little length of metal and tucked it into a seam of her shirt. He’d felt calluses on her palms, similar to his, like she’d been used to holding the hilt of a knife or a blade in her hand. Her dark eyes were all too knowing as she stared at him, and he wondered again just how gifted she was that the mercs kept her and didn't use her for anything other than her mind. 

She shuddered as he had the thought and he looked at her sharply, "Why exactly do they keep you?"

"Caught her..." She whispered softly, "Decided to keep her when they found out what she could do. A Precog. A Seer. They think." Her smirk was wicked and it was a look he found himself enjoying on that pretty face. "For the favor of the lock pick and the pleasure of his company he may have questions answered. But she doesn't know where Furya is. Sorry. She can look but it can't be found now. Too many other thoughts screaming." She shook her head and offered a wry smile, "Give her a blade and see how well she can dance. But she hasn't been able to dance in more than a year. Sixteen months, one week, three days." Her eyes sharpened as they stared into his, "He's wondering if she's broken. He doesn't like weak broken things. Ballerinas that don't spin when their box is opened. She is their edge. Kept from death. Kept from everything. She plays the only game left. Waiting game."

"So you're a Seer. And more than that," Riddick mused, keeping his voice low. "Don't seem broken to me. A little bent maybe." He looked towards the door and tilted his head curiously, "They all seem to think you're weak though, so you're doing a good job of hiding that spine. Surprised you ain't caught their eye again though. Even under the bruises easy to see you're a woman still."

The girl smirked at him, "She hides away in her mind when men inflict their bodies upon her. No edge if they rape the girl. Took them a full month to figure it. No more precog, no more words or visions if they force themselves on her. The boy takes care of her. Interprets her visions." She shrugged, "If I had my mouth I would bite. If I had my liberty, I would do my liking. I would rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace. I cannot hide what I am. But seek not to alter me."

"Smart little thing aren't you," He had been taking a catalog of her injuries; the smell of old dead blood, and the bruises that seemed to cover every inch of her body. She was wiry, muscled; but almost too thin, as if they kept her on short rations. That long dark hair was a mare's nest hanging down to her waist, tangled and half falling in her eyes. But she had a stubborn jaw and intelligent eyes under the bruises. He wouldn't know how tough she was until she got her hands on a weapon, though her talk about handling a blade and dancing was promising. Still he'd seen enough to know that talk was almost never followed by action.

"She is a genius," She lifted on shoulder diffidently. "She could be lying. Could be exaggerating, he has no way to know." Those dark eyes slid towards the door and she jerked her head up towards the crossbeams. "Dahl is going to come in soon. You will see that the girl is skilled soon enough. She makes it a promise. Promises are always to be kept."

Riddick nodded, "I'll be around." A leap, easy enough for him, and he was balanced on the crossbeams, then sliding back out the rooftop window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chinese Translations:
> 
> tiān shā de - Goddam!
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> If I had my mouth I would bite. If I had my liberty, I would do my liking. I would rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace. I cannot hide what I am. But seek not to alter me. - Much Ado About Nothing - William Shakespeare


	6. Chapter 5: To Gild Refined Gold, To Paint the Lily

He watched and listened as Dahl came back in the station, "What's your name anyway?" Dahl crouched near the girl. "Can't keep calling you girl."

The girl shook her head, "She is never to be called by name." Her dark eyes fixed on the blonde merc and she shrugged. "She is the Girl. The Seer. Can call her Girl. She doesn't mind."

"I mind," Dahl was frowning and Riddick found himself gaining a modicum of respect for the female merc. She wouldn't go against her boss but she plainly didn't care for how the girl was being treated. "You've got dark hair, and dark eyes, sad like. Sorta part of Santana's crew...how about Dolores?"

The girl shook her head, "She will not respond. She appreciates the kindness. But she cannot respond to a name. Not unless she wishes a beating." She looked at towards a door in the wall, "If Dahl wishes to show her a kindness, she could bring water and cloth, and let the girl wash herself. Or a comb, for her hair."

"Well a bucket is out, but I could bring you a bowl or something," Dahl offered. "And I'll keep an eye out for the men, stand in the door."

Dark eyes brightened and she nodded enthusiastically, "Will not make an attempt upon her own life. Gives her word. Feel grimy."

Riddick watched as Dahl nodded and got up and found a small bowl and a packet of soap in the supplies. She grabbed a cloth and disappeared into the other room. He'd taken a look earlier. One window was busted, but the other still had its storm shutters. He wouldn't be able to get in through there but he could certainly steal things if they were within reach. As he was considering the thought, Dahl came back out with a bowl brimful of water, the cloth in the bottom, and set them near the girl's feet.

True to her word, Dahl moved to the door and stood in it. If anyone wanted to get to the girl trying to bathe, they'd have to go past her. Riddick watched curiously, as the slender little woman first dipped her hands in the water and smoothed it over her arms, face and collarbone. Her shirt was torn in multiple places. It looked as if it had begun its life as a button down but the sleeves and collar had been torn off, half the buttons were missing and the bra she wore under it could be seen through the rents in the fabric.

As he watched, he saw her nimble fingers unhook the front of her bra. He couldn't see much, mores' the pity, except a strip of silky white skin; from her collarbone to her belly button it was exposed to his gaze. Even there she was bruised and he stifled a growl at the ugly marks on such pretty flesh. His tongue slid over his lips as she ripped open the soap packet and worked up a lather, rubbing it over the dampened flesh until she had a good foam. The chain jangled and chimed as she moved, using the damp cloth to wash the soap off. 

She wiped off her face and stared up at the skylight, her dark eyes meeting his. Her face was carefully blank, as if she'd wiped off her expression along with the soap and he regretted the loss of that fire he'd seen. She was beautiful, even with the bruises, the scars he could see parts of. It was the fire, that defiance he’d seen in her before, that made her so gorgeous in his eyes. Lovely women without personality might as well be statues for all that they moved him. This girl, bruised and chained, that spitfire attitude even as she was dragged around, she was all the more striking because of it. He wished he knew what it was that had made her go blank.

He wondered if watching her while she was bathing was what made him an animal? It had been so long since he’d seen a real woman. And even longer since he’d seen any woman who wasn’t one of the Necro concubines. It wasn’t like he could touch, if she didn’t welcome his hands he’d be no better than the mercs. But watching…he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to stop himself. He couldn’t help but look at her, slender curves and soft looking skin over wiry muscle. She was beautiful even covered in dust, dirt, and bruises. Looking didn’t give him the right to touch, Riddick reminded himself sternly. It was for the woman to grant that privilege, not for him to take it. But his palms itched to touch even as he throttled back his hunger.

He knew all she wanted was to get clean. He understood what that was like but he could no sooner look away from her than he could make friends with Santana. She was a woman, a beautiful woman, graceful and erotic in her movements and even if he never touched her, he couldn't help appreciating how she looked. He'd be dead if he couldn't see how tiān shā de gorgeous she was. But he wasn’t stupid enough to think looking gave him the right to hands on. As he considered the thought, warmth seemed to flood back into her eyes and her lips curved up slightly. Not welcoming but...more understanding.

She stretched her legs out and pointed her toes, the chain links making gentle noises with her slow movements and she dragged the cloth down one perfectly shaped leg, scrubbing off the dirt and what looked like dried blood. She worked the soap and cloth all the way up to her outer hip before she switched to the other leg and did the same thing. Her skirt puddled around her hips and between her thighs, concealing, tantalizing. Riddick caught himself before he groaned; what he wouldn’t give to touch, to have her welcome his touch... just to see what that skin felt like. The curve of her hip under his palm, his fingers touching her thighs, or his mouth...he’d kill to have his mouth on her breasts. He bit his lip and forced his now hot blood to slow, controlling himself with an effort. 

Without all the dirt, she was all white and black, beautiful, even with the bruises. She dipped the cloth in the water again and his eyes remained fastened to that scrap of fabric as she slid her hand beneath her skirt, movement suggesting she was washing her inner thighs, belly and other parts of her he could only imagine were as lovely as the rest.

She stood and arched her back, stretching and trying to wipe down her spine and shoulder blades. As she moved, her shirt and bra slipped, giving him a glimpse of her breasts, the inner curves of sweet flesh. It was a damn shame that the chains didn't allow her much movement. She couldn't even strip down entirely with the shackle on her wrist. Though he'd pay money, if he had it, if she'd just lift her skirt and flash him a glimpse of those pretty thighs again.

Her face had become wryly amused and she sat back down, closing her bra and buttoning her shirt again. She rubbed the rag over her hair, removing the worst of the dust before she practically attacked her feet. Riddick noticed she had really beat up feet. They looked tougher than the rest of her. But if she was walking around without boots, her soles were probably good and hard. But she was flexing her muscles, rotating her ankles and pointing her toes again, doing something to stretch out.

Riddick sighed slightly. It looked like the time for entertainment and art appreciation was over. Because that was how she moved, like she was art personified, and not the freaky kind. The kind that he'd seen on New Mecca, the kind that let you know you still had a soul. The girl was calling for Dahl, letting her know that she was done. Riddick saw the look on Dahl's face when the woman turned around and saw the girl, fairly clean though her hair was still a mess, and disturbingly beautiful. "Better hide your face when the men get back," Dahl advised as she took the dirty water, bowl and rag. "Johns' crew is good, but your guys...dunno how much you can trust 'em to behave when you look like a Core beauty in rags."

The girl shrugged, "Vargas and Luna won't touch me." She told the female merc as the woman gathered her own things. "Diaz isn't allowed to do more than hit me. And Santana..." She shrugged. "Can't do anything about him. Gotten clean before. Clean or dirty doesn't matter. Just likes the girl in chains."

"Delightful," Dahl scowled severely. "I'm gonna wash up. Anyone gives you a hard time you yell. Johns put me in charge and if something... well something else happens to you he won't be happy."

The girl nodded, "Will keep an eye out for Riddick." She tilted her head, "Seeing at night indicates that movement in daylight would not be optimal for such eyes."

"Yeah," Dahl nodded. "That's kinda what Johns was thinking too." She went into the bathroom and closed the door securely behind her. Riddick could hear the click of the lock, the clank of a gun belt being hung within reach and the rustle of clothing being removed. He grinned down at the girl who just rolled her eyes at his behavior. Yeah, she was right, he was a lecher sometimes, but it had been a good year since he'd seen a woman and she and Dahl were all he had to think on. Of course he was going to get as good a look as he could. 

He had to give Dahl credit though; even over the running water, she heard something. She turned it off and looked out the broken window, then moved towards the window with the storm shutters. He dropped silently to the ground and moved to look in the broken window to see her completely bare body, her back turned to him. Curves and muscle and hair the same color as Carolyn's to his eyes. She was made of sterner stuff than Carolyn, at least to first appearances. 

He moved back out of sight as she turned towards the sink and the mirror, turning the water back on and washing up. She was thorough and methodical and he truly appreciated the amount of time she spent on her breasts and belly. She was curved a bit more lushly than the girl in chains. But her movements weren't nearly as graceful. Powerful, but she was washing to wash, not hiding, not showing off but concealing her body at the same time.

The girl had known he was watching her and had seemed to find it upsetting at first. She’d acted almost as if she knew what was in his mind. Had she read his face? Or something else? She'd become...not sultry but less about practicality and more about turning her movements into embodiments of grace. She'd almost performed; made herself more beautiful instead of less. And since the sex part was all in his mind, he could just appreciate the beauty of her. Dahl had no idea he was watching and there was a certain pleasure in that, in seeing all of her, knowing he could tease her with that later. And there was also the plain old pleasure in seeing a pretty and naked woman. 

Dahl bent over to splash water on her face and Riddick grinned and ghosted his hand over her hair and spine before he reached for the cosmetics case. The nudity had been a nice bonus. Though if he had his choice between the two women, all things being equal... And by being equal, he meant if one of them hadn't been gang raped until she looked blank eyed and empty when he was watching her. Hell yes, all things being equal he'd screw Dahl; screw her to the wall. But he'd want to keep the girl around for a while. Yeah he'd like to screw her too. He was still a male. But she looked like she'd be interesting. Like having a conversation would be about more than guns or shivs or killing. 

Riddick made his way back up to the roof and looked in on the girl; she was more interesting in her own way than Dahl was. But for once, she wasn't looking up, looking for him. Her eyes were fixed on something else. Santana was standing outside the bathroom door, and the girl had a fresh bruise on her calf, red and angry, like a bootmark. Riddick forced the growl in his throat back down. He didn't like how this felt; bad all around.

But he had to get a look inside the ships, get a visual confirmation that they'd both pulled nodes, and see if everything he'd gotten out of Falco was true. So he couldn't stay and keep an eye on the situation, not for at least a little while. With a mental curse at his own nature, he slid from the roof of the station and mounted the top of the fancier ship. Vargas actually opened it up and was looking for tools and that was nice of him. When the ship was locked not even Riddick's skills could get the top hatch open for a look around with the handy mirror on the make up compact.

And yep, Johns had pulled a node from his ship, just like Santana had. Smart and stupid at the same time. The explosive lock on the wall locker meant that both nodes were in the same place.

Riddick grinned and made his way back up to the station's roof. Now he could figure out how to mess with the mercs. In the distance near the mountains, he could hear the hogs starting up again. The mercs were on their way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So Riddick is...lecherous. But I think we all knew that if we'd seen the movie. How many women were in that bed in the flashback? Seriously? But we also know that given no other options he tends to exercise control over his urges and hungers. He wouldn't be able to escape so easily and hide for so long if he couldn't control himself.
> 
> But Riddick, unlike some of the mercs, also has rules. I've noticed there are things he won't do. So I've been playing with that a bit here. Still, it has been pointed out that being the lecherous hump that he is he probably wouldn't pass up spying on both River and Dahl as they bathe. 
> 
> Now what River thought of being spied on...that's something we'll find out later. But in the meantime... 
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed and you'll tell me what you think. 
> 
> Thanks muchly to RCoots/Chiza for her huge help in beta-ing this for me. There's a huge difference in how it looks now and the draft I sent her and the improvements (I hope they're improvements anyway) are due to her feedback. She's an awesome writer her own self so go check out her stuff. She just finished a killer Riverick fic! (I mean killer in a good way, because we all love our big manly murderer right?)
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> tiān shā de - goddamn


	7. Chapter 6: I Wage Not Any Feud With Death

River took a deep breath as Dahl came out of the bathroom and stared hard at the woman before flicking her eyes towards Santana. 

To her credit, Dahl didn't even acknowledge her attempted warning, she just looked at Santana in irritation. "Were you just perving on me somehow?"

"May all your dreams come true baby," Santana blew Dahl a kiss and River shuddered. 

Dahl didn't seem to care for it either. "You got two minutes to get on shift." She snapped at him in irritation.

River watched as Dahl swept out of the station. Santana was simply moving around smoking a cigarette, polluting the air with his smoke and his own stench. River shuddered and kept herself well out of his way. She could hear Riddick; he'd debated for a moment before deciding he had to take his opportunities. He'd been pleased to find that Johns’ ship also had pulled a node. And to his mind the explosive lock on the wall locker made the location of the nodes fairly obvious. The trick would be to get the lock removed. Given that Riddick had no intention of blowing himself to bits the mercs would have to do that part.

The communications equipment buzzed, Johns on the comms, trying to warn Dahl that Riddick might be around. He wasn't wrong there. Santana was listening and shrugging off the warning. An excuse to ignore orders. But as River kept an eye on him she saw his hand reach up to check the key around his neck. However much he might bluster about not being afraid of Riddick, the legend of the murderer still worked his nerves. She had to keep a smile from her lips at the thought of Santana face to face with Riddick. The merc would lose, badly. 

As she watched Santana pace she felt Riddick come back. He moved quickly and quietly, simply stealing in the door of the station to walk silently behind Santana. He didn't look at her, didn't bother to warn her to silence. She could feel that Riddick knew she would say nothing to tip off the boss merc.

But before he could do anything Dahl came back in, angry, "Your two minutes are up. You gonna do what I tell you to do?" She didn’t even notice Riddick’s broad body lying on his back on the crossbeams of the station. River nearly rolled her eyes at that blatant stupidity. Being mindful of your surroundings meant all of them, all angles, not just one dimension. No one ever thought three dimensionally. Dahl was a sniper, but she wasn’t of the same mindset the other sniper River had known. He had been insistent upon knowing everything around him before he got into his nest. Dahl didn’t seem to even realize there were beams and shadows above her. She didn’t even appear to comprehend that River could be a threat, that the chains were a potential weapon. Santana hadn’t figured that out either but River had given the merc woman credit for a little more intelligence than Santana.

Santana wasn't concerned with Dahl's ire, "Rumor is Riddick might be in the vicinity. Thought I should just check on the locker."

River watched as Dahl bristled visibly, "Get outside, get on your optics and get after this fucker. You're not gonna find him here." That was highly inaccurate River thought with a frown. She didn't dare glance up to where Riddick lay on a support beam, his large body concealed in the shadows.

Santana began to move, but not how Dahl had ordered. He picked up the tool Dahl had slammed down and threw it at her skull. His hands wrapped around her throat and even as River watched and tried to stick her foot out to trip him, he flipped Dahl over and threw her to the ground. His body fell on top of hers and River shuddered. 

Dahl was furious, but not smart enough to be afraid, not yet, not in the true, visceral way River knew to fear. Santana was holding her down, his hands choking her, even as his body pushed against hers and River nearly cried out at the awful feel of it. She bit down hard on her lip to stay silent as Santana hissed at Dahl. "Actually Dahl, I think we have something in common. I don't fuck guys either." His tongue snaked out, licking Dahl's lips and nose, infuriating the merc woman.

River glanced up, saw Riddick glaring down, knife in his hand, fury dark on his face, a killing look and shook her head frantically. She kicked out with her chains, near Dahl's wild hands and watched in satisfaction as the female merc grabbed the links and wrapped them around Santana's throat. River scooted backwards and yanked hard with her dancer’s legs, choking Santana. The metal cut into her ankles and she winced as it drew blood.

It was a long enough pause for Dahl to get the upper hand, standing up. She dragged Santana up with her, the chains pulling at River’s legs painfully. River bit her lip again on a cry of pain as Santana kicked out wildly, at her, at Dahl, uncaring of whom he hit. His steel-toed boot met her thigh and ribs. Quick as a wink and just as quiet, Riddick turned on the crossbeam and peered down at the three of them, his face a mask of rage.

Santana unwrapped the chains from around his neck just in time for Dahl to begin smashing her fists into his face. Riddick wasn't watching the mercs though. His frown was fixed on her, on the fresh bruises beginning to rise on her skin, easily seen now that she'd washed. She was bleeding; the steel on Santana's boots had torn her skin, high on her outer left thigh. It would need stitching eventually.

She touched the blood and tasted it, copperish on her tongue, and felt a swell of pleasure from the man on the beams above her. He liked violence, she could feel it, but he liked even more that she wasn't crying. She gave him a quick smile to let him know she'd be all right and hid her face behind her knees and hair, the image of a frightened girl child.

Santana would have kicked her again but Dahl nearly threw him out of the station. River could feel the merc woman looking at her, seeing River’s trembling form trying to hide behind the steel pillar and decided to leave her alone for a bit to calm down. River waited a moment or two after Dahl had left and looked up.

Riddick slid down from the crossbeam and watched as she dabbed her fingers in the blood on her thigh and tasted it again. He tilted his head and crouched near her for a moment, “I can use Santana’s blood from the floor if you like Kitten.” His rumble of a voice was soft, “Guess that wasn’t easy for you to see.”

“He may use her blood. Do not leave them any more clues,” River whispered looking into those silver eyes. They gleamed behind the black glass of his goggles, like dim stars. She saw him glance at the long-range communications equipment and gave him a wicked grin. “Sabotage. Most appropriate.”

“It’ll make noise though,” Riddick’s fingers were gentle as he dabbed them in the bloody gash on her thigh. He got one word out of the dripping blood and River squeezed more out into her palm for him to use as an inkwell. His fingers hadn’t made her flesh crawl, not either time that her skin had touched his, and that was promising. He grinned and wrote on the locker again. Fair Trade.

“She can tell him what wires to pull, how to completely negate the equipment,” River said softly. “Then she will wait until he is ready…and scream to wake the dead while he smashes it. Must be quick. The others return soon. ETA five minutes thirty seconds.”

His grin was wickedly appreciative of the plan and he nodded. Absently he sucked her blood from his finger and moved towards the equipment. River enjoyed his mind while he followed her instructions. She didn’t have to say anything more than once, and he understood the terms she used. His boot heel came down on several key cortex chips and the cables were ruthlessly twisted so the plastic tips broke off and were ruined.

“Think we’re about ready,” Riddick grinned at her. “On the count of three?”

She nodded and held up her hand to listen, “Mercs are all a decent distance from the station, patrolling the perimeter. Even Dahl is two minutes away. He must smash as hard as he can and run. She can scream very loud.”

“All right,” Riddick gave her a hard count to three and kicked the screens over. His hard boots came down on the equipment, breaking it all to pieces. River screamed bloody murder as Riddick utterly destroyed the communications array and kept screaming as he darted out of the station. Her shrieks filled the metal rooms until Santana and his men burst in, Dahl leading them.

Santana took one look at the broken equipment and backhanded her, sending her sprawling hard on the floor and her screams died to a whimper. Dahl gave him a hard look and gestured to Luna, the two of them crouching in front of her, “He was here?” The female merc asked, already knowing the obvious answer.

“The final plague of Egypt,” River whispered. “But we have no sigils to inscribe on the door. No blood for us. He used the blood…he was so quiet she didn’t even hear.” That got them all to turn and look.

Santana's nose was still bleeding, but he ignored it. But everyone stopped and stared at the locker. How could they have missed Riddick coming in and writing on the gāi sǐ locker? 

River could feel the weight of Luna’s eyes, then Vargas' along with him. Santana and Diaz turned and looked at her and she shuddered again. Dahl’s was the only decent mind, and even she was a creature who thought of sex often, just not with River. 

She'd rather feel Riddick's mind, his honest desire for the beauty of her body, his desire to touch and see her grace, wondering if she'd welcome his rough hands. She'd rather Riddick's mind push against hers, brimming with simple lust than the weight of all these people who considered her a thing. Tinged with lust his thoughts might be, but it was a desire ruthlessly controlled. To him she was a woman, a person, Kitten he'd named her in his mind, and she was not to be touched or owned or used.

Lust wasn't comfortable and it wasn't anything she sought, but it felt better in her mind when someone thought of her as a person. It was a fine distinction and she'd rather not deal with such thoughts at all. But given a choice? Riddick was easier to deal with. She shifted uncomfortably, shuddered under the weight of their minds their thoughts, and wished she could get further away from them. Instinctively she used her mental reach to find the one mind on the world that wasn’t thinking of her as a thing, using it as a sanctuary. Right now Riddick's thoughts weren't lustful, they were furious.

"What the hell!" Santana was ready to kill something, "How could you not notice a convict coming into the station and writing in blood? And the equipment being wrecked? That was subtle? Yes?" He moved forward to aim another kick at her and River jerked back, taking the boot to her shoulder instead of her face. 

Before he could take better aim Dahl stopped him, "You're not going to get answers from someone who's unconscious." She looked at Luna who moved forward.

The boy, Peach Fuzz, Riddick called him, was still, "Why didn’t you see him get in the station?"

River shook her head, "See no evil, hear no evil." She covered her ears with her hands and hid her face against her knees to demonstrate. "If her eyes are not open she cannot see. Cannot See." She shook her head and looked at Dahl and Santana, "Didn't want to see what would happen next. Knew too well how it would feel. Didn't want to witness, didn't want to feel it second hand, again. Helpless to stop it." She shuddered involuntarily as she remembered feeling the other girl, raped over and over, the emotions and projected sensations had brought back her own memories. Feeling her death had been just as bad.

Dahl very wisely didn't mention that River had deliberately kicked her chains within reach and just nodded her understanding. 

“She opened her eyes, after they left she thought it was safe to see… and Azrael stood before her. Threw the equipment down, broke it; and she screamed and screamed for them to come. And he cursed her and flew away.” River shuddered. 

Luna blinked at her before he turned and addressed Dahl, “She’s calling Riddick the Angel of Death. In the tenth plague of Egypt, the plague of the first born, the Angel took all the firstborn of Egypt, the first born of the people and the animals. All except the Israelites children, they’d painted symbols on their doors in lamb's blood.” 

Before they could ask her anything else, Johns and the rest of his men roared up on their hogs. They came in cautiously, guns out, and River could feel Johns' weariness as he saw the blood and the wrecked equipment. Dahl moved forward, down the three steps towards her boss, "You've gotta see this."

Johns took in the words, "He wrote that?"

Vargas wasn’t concerned with the writing so much as he was the equipment. "He took out our deep space communications. All of it."

River tilted her head upwards as Johns simply looked around the station, "And whose blood is that? Here? There? And over there?" His gaze, as he saw River's bloody leg, fresh bruises and bitten lip, was almost as dark as Riddick's, angry and hard. “Did Riddick do that to you?” He was looking hard at River who shook her head and looked at Santana. 

Dahl indicated Santana with a slight nod of her head, "I had to kick his ass again." She paused and added, "Sorry." Another pause and she conceded the lie, "Not really."

Moss came in and shook his head at Johns, no sign of Riddick. River watched as Santana moved towards the locker and drew the key off his head, "Well let's take a look." 

He began to turn the key. Click.

Click.

Click.

Johns watched, his mind racing, "Stop." He called out. Santana paused and turned with a puzzled expression. Johns' face was stoic, "That key leave your neck?"

Santana shook his head, "Never."

Johns shook his head in echo of the other merc, "Well the only reason to write 'fair trade' is if he got into that locker and took something out. Something that we need, like a power node. That he can then swap for something he needs."

Santana, River had to give him some form of credit, was too stupid to think in that many layers. It wasn't much but it did mean that Riddick's more sophisticated games flew right over his head. "All that? Wow. Highly unlikely." He turned to click the key again.

Johns moved towards him, "Jesus fucking Christ Santana, here's what I'm saying. If he did get in there somehow he was in a position to relock it. And change the code."

Diaz spoke from over Johns' shoulder, "Could be entering the wrong shit Santana."

Santana frowned, "So." He paused and rubbed his knuckles over his jaw, popping it minutely into place with several clicks. "You think, sometime during the last few hours, he got this off my neck, without me noticing. Did whatever he did. Without anyone, even my girl there, seeing him. Put the fucking key back on my fucking neck, without me fucking noticing?" He jerked his chin at Johns, "Is that what you're saying? Where did you get that theory from? A unicorn's ass?"

"There's a reason he is who he is," Moss spoke up quietly.

Santana wasn't having it, "He's a convict. Not some Zulu warlock."

Johns shrugged and nodded, "You know what you know."

Luna the peacemaker had fetched the med kit and was cleaning the ugly wound Santana's boot had left on River's thigh while the bosses argued. "Can you See?" He asked her quietly. But his voice was loud in the stillness of the station.

River held out her hand for the needle and thread and Luna handed it to her. She was conscious of Riddick's admiring gaze; he'd never seen a woman able to stitch her own flesh without flinching. And the position she needed to stitch the gash properly was exposing her thigh from the hip down. Lecherous man, he appreciated skin that showed, but his thoughts weren’t oily. He admired. He coveted but he wouldn't touch. It was amazing what a difference that made. Feeling his control made his thoughts more bearable. They'd become more tolerable now that she was growing accustomed to his mind, but if she had to endure a constant barrage of such thoughts? She’d have to make her opinion as to the direction of his musings known. Most likely by throwing the nearest solid objects at his head until he got the message. Riddick wasn’t stupid. It wouldn’t take him long to figure it out. Probably. She kept her mental smirk at the thought off her lips and concentrated on her stitching. 

Right now, he was appreciating her position but he was furious she needed the stitches in the first place. His urge to gut Santana was growing steadily; in another day it would rival her own desire to kill the merc. She kept the smile in her thoughts off her lips and out of her voice as she lied to Luna, "Can't see the past. Only what's to come. No thoughts, only intentions. Tick tock, tick tock. Three down, eight left, normally I'd just keep going, six down, five down...Nine down...You get where I'm goin'..." She kept her gaze blank as she spoke with Riddick’s intonations, an indicator to Luna that it was prophecy, not simply her own desire to scare them. In truth, it was a little of both.

Diaz snarled and moved towards her but Moss and Lockspur got in his way, "You're not hitting a little girl for a foretelling she can't help." Lockspur told him coldly. "You think those are all her words? Does she normally sound like that?"

"She normally sounds a little creepy, but you know weird, not like herself. Maybe with Riddick around she's getting a stronger sense of his goals. Or something," Vargas suggested as he studied the wrecked equipment. 

Luna nodded slowly, "Every now and then she's talked in what sounds like a different voice, like tongues. It's always meant something. Always been something we heard or saw later on. That wasn’t her voice, wasn’t the way she says things. So it’s something else, something someone’ll say in the future probably."

"Like signposts on the road," Lockspur found an analogy they could all understand and Luna nodded.

River looked up from her stitching after she tied off the thread. Luna cut the line with the scissors she wasn't allowed to touch and moved everything sharp out of her reach, including the needle. As he smeared antibiotic paste over her skin and plastered a bandage on top of it she shuddered but kept her voice steady, "The only past she hears are the ghosts. There are none here. No one to speak to me of what occurred, what the Riddick did. Only way for the girl to know is to kill someone who saw so she can hear the dead speak." She nodded at Santana, "If he blows himself up...he could tell me how. The dead always know how they died." 

"You said she sounded a 'little' creepy?" Moss shook his head, "Like Riddick is just a 'little' dangerous." He'd very neatly led them right back to the point but River rolled her eyes.

"Then Moss can listen to the dead shrieking through dreams and visions. Try to tune in the future like a cortex channel. Read the sheets like tarot cards and see how normal he sounds," She made a face as Luna handed her an antiseptic cloth for her to wipe down her bloody lip and bruised skin. River washed her face and gave her attention to her bleeding ankles. Luna frowned and handed her a length of bandage to keep the shackles from abrading the wounds any further.

Santana was still standing by the locker with the key and made a face. “Let’s get this over with then,” He groused in annoyance. He turned back to it and one by one everyone else backed up. 

Luna had put away the med kit and come to stand near Johns. Vargas positioned himself in front of River, "Just stay behind me little one." He murmured quietly.

"She is out of range," River shrugged and gave them one of her patented smiles Nunez had once described as creepy. "Explosion would occur at shoulder height if everyone is on the lower level. Chest height for the boss." That got everyone backing up and crouching down so the explosion would go over their heads. If it got that far it would blow out the windows but they wouldn't die. Most likely.

Santana shook his head, "This is crazy. This is fucking crazy. The first three clicks were good. It did not go off."

"Man you can get three clicks playing Russian roulette," Moss retorted from his crouched position. "That don't mean you get a fourth."

Dahl, spoke up, "You know Santana for once I agree with you, I think you're good." Her voice was pleasant, conciliatory almost, and completely insincere.

Santana took that in the spirit it was meant, "Shut up." He jerked his head at Diaz, "And you? Want this?"

Diaz was backing up even as he spoke, "Nah, I think you're good cuz."

"You're fucking good, just butch up," Dahl sneered.

"Sounds like your department, lesbo," Santana sneered right back at her.

"I'm not opening that fucking thing," Dahl shook her head emphatically.

"Oh yes you are," Santana drew.

Dahl's weapon was in her hand and aimed in seconds, "I'm so fucking not." In less than a heartbeat, every merc in the room was aiming at each other.

River giggled, "Blood on the floor, on the walls. All are Death stalking each other." Johns had come to the same conclusion and pushed forward before she’d even finished speaking.

"Hey, hey! Hey!" He shouted, "Use your fuckin' brains. We are not gonna do Riddick's work for him." Johns looked at all of them, "The little girl is right. Put your weapons down and have a look at that." He pointed at Riddick's words, "He was here! Right fucking there." He quieted his tone, "Santana, put your fuckin' sword away."

After a moment Santana pulled the machete up and Dahl stopped aiming her gun at him. "Don't fucking open it then," The grimy and still slightly bleeding, merc snarled.

Johns shook his head, "Well the problem with that Santana, we never open that locker? Then we never leave."

River sat quietly while the rest of the mercs figured out the range of the explosion and the trajectory, placing themselves out of the line of fire but not crouched and visibly worried like they had been before. Santana stood in front of the lock and took a deep breath. Luna was praying. As she watched in resignation Santana turned the key, "Four." Johns pushed Luna behind him, the boy still praying. The key turned again, Santana's entire body moving with it in strange sympathy, "Five."

Santana was visibly gearing himself up, bracing against the turn when Moss' hand came down hard on the metal table with the dominos. Santana jumped in fear and Moss shrugged, "Oops?" Lockspur smacked him lightly on the shoulder with a reproving look.

Dahl chuckled, "Wish I'd a thought a that."

River shook her head, a half smile on her lips, "Says boo, makes him jump. They're all so scared...of the wrong thing." 

Santana was shaking and finally got his nerve back up, making the final key turn with a war cry. "Yeaaahhhhh... Six!" The merc boss was vibrating with stress as the lock turned green. "Six." He took a deep breath, "Six."

Dahl just shrugged philosophically while Vargas chuckled and complimented his boss, "You are a shit storm trooper Santana. I give you that." 

Diaz was chewing his gum and grinning a bit, "Beat the devil this time."

Luna was holding his bible close, "I believe this is a sign." He said it quietly. Then more loudly, "I believe this is a sign. That maybe the good Lord wants us to take these nodes and flee this planet just as soon as we can."

Johns' mercs gave him a few strange looks while Vargas and Johns exchanging raised eyebrows. But Santana simply lit a cigarette, "That's my good luck charm." He drawled before walking away.

"Wrong business kid," Dahl patted the boy on the shoulder as she walked down the stairs.

They were all alive, which was too bad. Even though she knew Riddick hadn't done anything to the lock, River had thought the explosive blowing Santana in half would be a nice end to the merc. "Deliver me from the workers of iniquity. And save me from bloody men." River curled into a ball on her side, "The night is dark and full of terrors. She will sleep now so she is awake for the night." She closed her eyes, very aware of Riddick watching all of them through the skylight. It was true, what they'd taught her at the Academy. Most people never bothered to look up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chinese Translations: 
> 
> gāi sǐ - damned
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> Deliver me from the workers of iniquity. And save me from bloody men. - Psalms 59:2
> 
> The night is dark and full of terrors. - Game Of Thrones


	8. Chapter 7: The Unwelcome, the Unbidden, Azrael, Angel Of Death

Johns was pointing at his map, was talking about finding the cave sites. Riddick smiled as he eased the skylight open. "We sealed up the caves with some phosphor frags here, so he can't go back. But just like an animal he's gonna head to known ground. But we're gonna find he's got three or four lairs out there."

As Riddick watched the big black merc, Moss he'd been called, looked over towards the locker. The door was ajar. He'd give the merc some credit, after he closed the locker he looked up at the open skylight. Too bad Riddick had already slid through the opening and gotten inside. So when Moss drew his pistol and headed behind the locker, drawn by some faint noise, Riddick was waiting for him. 

The shadows behind the locker were deep, and Moss' eyes didn't adjust quickly enough to even see Riddick, much less react to him. Before Moss even knew what had happened he was pressed up against the locker, his own weapon useless, pointed towards his body while Riddick's hand squeezed his throat. "You scared a me?" Riddick murmured the question. It wasn't a question that truly needed an answer. He could smell that his glowing eyes unnerved the man. 

Moss gasped for breath, "Yeah." He struggled minutely and Riddick switched hands, too fast for the merc to react, holding a shiv to the dark man's throat.

"Are they scared a me?" Riddick asked softly. 

Moss wasn't stupid enough to nod but he replied just as quietly. "Yes. They're scared of you."

Riddick drew back a bit, regarded the merc. This one hadn't hit the girl; in fact, none of the fancier mercs had hit the girl. He'd seen some of them looking at her speculatively, and he'd smelled lust on the two men but none of them had acted on it. Who'd have thought; disciplined mercs. Would wonders never cease? He shook his head, "They're all scared of the wrong thing." He moved, turning the dark merc until he was in front of the chair behind the locker and sat him in it. The man stared at him, like a mouse mesmerized by a snake and Riddick seized the opportunity to take the power nodes. 

Santana and his mercs were walking the perimeter. Dahl and her boss were talking over their glowing map, the light blinding them to the rest of the station. The other one was nodding, pointing something out on the map. The only one looking in the direction of the locker was Kitten. And helpful as she'd been so far, especially with crippling the communications array, she wouldn't say a word. The hinges on the locker were well greased not even a creak from them as he eased the doors open and slung the nodes over his back. 

Then it was just a matter of climbing back out through the skylight. And even with the two nodes, that wasn't as hard as it could have been. He watched for a moment and judged that he had at least four hours before the sun set fully. If he was any fit judge of the weather on this planet the clouds heralding a storm on the horizon wouldn't hit the station until well after sunset. The breeze was strong but not so much so that the rain would come before the sun went down.

It took the other merc, the weathered looking one, a few minutes listening of the boss' plans to look up and notice his partner hadn't come back. He moved to the locker and behind it. There was Moss sitting right where Riddick had left him.

"I just saw him," Moss murmured.

Lockspur put a hand to his ear as if his comm was bad, "Say again?"

"I just saw him," Moss looked up at the skylight. Riddick made certain he was not looking in at all. Hearing would be good enough for a bit. And the smell of panic and the sound of the locker being yanked open was pretty damn amusing.

At that point, he judged that it was time to leave. He knew this land better than they possibly could, knew where he could run flat out and where he had to move stealthily. Dog met him half way to the rocks and he chuckled at him. "They'd better not put any fresh bruises on the Kitten while I'm gone. I'm getting the itch to sink some metal into that prick boss Santana."

The dog growled his agreement. Riddick chuckled again, apparently Dog liked the sound of the girl. He'd heard enough about all of the people at the station to growl and whine with interest at the changes in Riddick's voice. The hard run to his prepared dig site underneath the tabletop rock formations had Dog racing along side him happily and sniffing at the hole and the nodes with interest. The nodes made him sneeze, giving him an affronted look and Riddick a good laugh.

The one thing Dog did not do though, was dig or shovel. Apparently, that was for Riddick to do while he lazed on an outcropping. That was all right. Dog was excellent at keeping watch. And Riddick had just about finished his burial of the nodes and other essentials when Dog leapt down from his napping spot and circled, growling.

Riddick looked up and moved towards Dog, while Dog's ears flattened and he looked at the horizon. A hand on the animal's shoulder reassured him a bit, and Riddick slammed his tool into the sandy ground. "I know; it's coming."

The thunderstorm he'd seen earlier was blowing towards them, lightning flashing in the distant clouds. He'd been right. They had until about sunset. Maybe an hour afterwards. And then...life would get very interesting.

He decided to circle back to the station and listen to the mercs jabber for a while before he headed back out and used Falco's comm to call for a parley. He didn't want to give them too much time to think. A merc thinking was never good. It twisted their brains up and they got stupid and did things like try to shoot him in the back or kill little kids.

They were milling around outside, talking about amps and millijoules and he snuck up on to the roof to lie next to the skylight and look inside. If he weren't so bored of this planet and the general merc stupidity, he'd be worried about how obsessed he was with watching this little woman. Like a little kitten, sleeping with her hands balled up. And then the mercs came back in.

Riddick watched with interest as the head merc with the shiny badge moved over to the girl to wake her up so he could ask her questions. Santana's crew was ignoring the other mercs. Luna had dropped a blanket over the girl but he'd been the only one to show her any consideration besides Dahl letting her wash and feeding her earlier. The merc woman had attempted to give the girl a bowl of food but Santana had barked a denial. Apparently if she couldn't predict what Riddick would do next she didn't eat. So she was sleeping in a curled up ball, like an abused child. The way Jack had slept next to him on the skiff, shuddering with cold and flinching at every loud sound.

The stoic faced merc dropped to one knee and laid a hand on her shoulder. Riddick blinked as the girl's fist shot out, unerringly striking Johns in the throat, her foot hitting very hard between his legs. Riddick grinned his appreciation of her accuracy even as part of him sympathized with the pain the merc must be feeling.

Santana was smirking in amusement, "I told you, not to touch her."

"What the fuck," Johns gasped out.

Dahl was looking at her boss and shaking her head, "Johns, they keep the girl chained up. They barely let her bathe. She's been brutalized. She sleeps like a frightened animal, curled in a ball. Did you think waking her like that was going to go well?"

Kitten's eyes were open, staring up at the merc who was now clutching his balls, "Deliver me from the workers of iniquity and save me from bloody men. God wants no part of this." She whispered, "What do you want?"

"Have some questions for you," Johns got the words out in a strangled voice as he ground his teeth together. "Of course you're pretty much knocked them out of me."

She shook her head at him and drew herself up warily, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She looked like a child, a lovely but abused child, with bruises all over. "Furya. He asks about the word."

"I, we, want to know what Riddick meant, when he said we were all scared of the wrong thing," Moss said as his boss struggled for air and massaged his throat.

The girl looked at the dark merc, "Scared you. Scares them. But you're all scared of the wrong thing. Forget the start. It's the end you wanna think about now."

Riddick had to admit, when she imitated his cadence and phrasing she sounded spooky creepifying. His phrasing in that soft voice, sweet in his ears. Freaking the mercs out even more. God she was a helluva lotta fun.

Kitten was talking again and Riddick frowned, "Teeth in the ground. Eyes at night. The rain comes. Scours the earth. And the plague arrives."

"All right, I'm sorry if I frightened you. That was not my intention," The head merc got his voice working again. "You mentioned Furya once before. Riddick has that same word, on the roof of his lair. Written out in white, like it was carved into the stone. What is it?"

Her laugh was chilling, "A myth. A fairy tale. A prophecy." 

"Riddick isn't the fairy tale type," Johns argued. Riddick chanced a look through the glass and saw that the merc was sitting on the ground across from the girl. He paid her the compliment of sitting at her level. She was pleased if her scent and the brightness of her eyes were any indication.

"He is wrong. Riddick is the fairy tale. You people are all so scared of him. Normally would take that as a compliment. But he is the hero of his story," Kitten explained in her sweet elegant voice. "Once upon a time, far away, there was a prophecy made for a king. A king of the planet shakers. All worlds shuddered before his army but one. And the prophecy spoke of a child. A young male of Furya would kill this great king, even as he sought dominion over all systems. Even as all worlds spinnin' trembled before him."

Riddick smiled as her phrasing slipped into Border slang, she'd hung with some Rimfolk a fair bit, to pick that up. Her voice continued and told the story of his people, "So the king found this world, found Furya and destroyed it. Razed its cities, hunted its people across worlds. A race of spirit warriors, capable of great power. Alpha Furyans are the greatest of these, managing feats of strength and agility unheard of and unthought-of by normal men. They live beyond death. Their will is like the strength of a thousand stars. They only die when they wish."

Her voice dipped low with sorrow, "But the great king was powerful, and had an Armada, and Greater Quasi Dead who read the minds of all brought before them. And he found every warrior. Male and female. Every Furyan mother. He cut the children from their wombs. He converted the lesser males into his own twisted race, people without pain or compassion. The king strangled newborns with their own umbilical cords and left them to suffocate. He committed genocide. And sowed the seeds of the prophecy that predicted his destruction."

"Riddick was found in the trash, with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck," Johns whispered. "You're saying..."

"That he left anyone alive is a testament to his mercy. To what he truly is. The animal side is very powerful,” Kitten had a smile in her voice. "He fought his way through a prison to retrieve the girl he called sister. Found a woman in her place and got her out. But they took her from him even after he destroyed dozens of them with the Wrath. So he went to the Basilica, to Necropolis to retrieve her. And there he met the Lord Marshall. And there the Lord Marshall met the last Furyan. The Alpha of all Alphas. Escaped convict. Murderer. And just like every other to attempt it, when the Lord Marshall tried to kill Riddick, the Lord Marshall died."

Riddick took a moment to be grateful that she hadn't talked about Kyra or how she'd died for him. He just might have gone crazy and killed every last one of these damn mercs if they'd heard that. Kyra was his. She wasn't for the likes of them.

Kitten's voice was sad, "You keep what you kill. But he did not want them. So he left, seeking home, following a map of lies given by the one man who claimed he remembered Furya. Came here. To Not Furya."

Riddick listened to the disturbed murmurings as the rest of the mercs reacted to the tale. The head merc was simply taking deep breaths, his face an expressive struggle as he tried to understand everything Kitten had just said. The halfway smart merc, Vargas, said what half of them had to be thinking, "You mean the Riddick we've been chasing; he's been the head of the Necromongers since he disappeared six years ago? He killed their king? The king that only ascends by rite of combat? The biggest bad ass they have? And it was prophesied that he'd do it? Yeah, this was a genius plan."

Riddick didn't quite chuckle as he jumped off the roof onto the rock behind it and began to make his way south. The mercs had spilled out of the station; he could hear their chatter on the comm he'd slipped in his ear. Vargas was talking about repairing the emergency beacon. The others were saying that was like an ambulance calling for an ambulance. And someone made a remark about backup. He figured that was as good a cue as any. 

"Long wait for backup," He drawled in their ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So I wanted the mercs to be given a few clues as to who they were dealing with here. But being who they are...how seriously are they going to take her little fairy tale? What do you guys think?
> 
> I took a liberty or two with the timing. The movie was never really clear how much time had passed between Moss going to check on the nodes and Riddick walking out for a parley. And I wanted River to tell the story of the prophecy and how Riddick had assumed the place of the Lord Marshall. I think you all have figured out that River loves to freak the mercs out as much as she can.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And thanks to RCoots /Chiza betaing me. In case you guys haven't checked out her stories you really should. She's got one with Johns in it in her universe. Very cool!
> 
> Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think or ask any questions. I love feedback and questions make me think. Lots of fun.
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> Deliver me from the workers of iniquity. And save me from bloody men. - Psalms 59:2


	9. Chapter 8: The Sad Augers Mock Their Own Presage

The moment she heard Riddick's mind echoing his voice, 'Look south', she knew it would go terribly wrong. There was no way Santana would let a deal stand, he'd try a double cross, killing Riddick and she couldn't allow that. It wouldn't matter to Santana in the heat of the moment that Johns wanted Riddick alive. If Riddick was killed her plans for escape would be compromised.

She could hear him talking to the mercs and used his voice as her timer, as she Read all four men; well, one mostly animal and three who claimed to be men. Johns, Diaz and Santana were going to meet him; this would not end well, not unless she got there in time. She drew the lockpick out of the seam in her shirt, and began to work on her shackles. Johns was telling the other two to drop their weapons, she could feel Riddick disarming as he went. The time of disaster was getting closer and she almost moaned her worry aloud.

The men met while she was working on her wrist. The locks were stubborn with disuse, "So what's the bounty at?" Riddick asked; he had a smile in his voice. Plans within plans.

"I don't know, I don't care. That's not why I'm here," Johns was feeling terse.

It sounded like Riddick was still smiling, "I bet the big jamoke knows."

Diaz did. "Yeah. I know exactly what it is."

"What I do know, is that its double if you're brought back dead," Johns informed him.

Riddick's voice echoed with amusement in her mind. He was supremely unconcerned with that development, "That's new. Will it be enough to pay for your funerals?"

"What I'm interested in," Johns said quietly. River felt his determination; it was close to an obsession to find his answers. "Is a little backwater place with a system code M344/G. And I wanna know what happened there ten years ago."

River finally freed her wrist and began to work on one ankle cuff, cursing the lock that was even worse than the first shackle. Riddick didn't know Santana always carried a clutch piece; a derringer in his boot. A bullet to the brain would kill the big man dead. Even as Riddick figured out who Johns was, she was struggling with the cuff, "The Father. Big Daddy Johns."

"Yeah that's right," Johns cut him off. 

"And you traveled all this way," Riddick sounded curious now. That was the danger in his curiosity, that catlike inquisitiveness could prompt him to concentrate on Johns. He'd seemed more practical than to completely discount the other two men, but Johns had a way of commanding attention. Even as she worried that Riddick was focusing on Johns and ignoring Santana and Diaz, Riddick's mind flared with wariness, watchful of the two grimy mercs. She could feel his eyes moving over the other two mercs behind his goggles, his gaze hidden, even as he seemed to concentrate on Johns. He could still be taken by surprise but it was growing less likely as Santana's impatient movements registered in Riddick's brain and echoed in River's mind. "Just to see me." He paused, "I'm flattered."

"Well its kinda strange," Johns' voice had a gruffer tone to it, grief in his throat. "Not knowing what to put down in the family bible." River tilted her head, listening to the boss merc's thoughts more closely for a moment and bottomless well of grief that fed his need for answers. He hid it well but Johns was on edge and desperate for some reason, something to understand or blame for his son's death.

"Kinda strange three guys had to die just so that you can..." Riddick was taunting the clean cut merc now. 

Johns cut Riddick off again, "No, no, no. You don't get to put that shit on me. Those kills are on you."

"I have a feeling that's not the only thing on me right now," Riddick's voice was unconcerned but River could feel his certainty that Dahl had her snipers scope trained on his upper body. She was loading it with horse tranqs even as Riddick speculated.

River shuddered as Santana pushed himself forward, his mind was slimy, "I hate to interrupt this discussion but maybe I should step in right here and introduce myself. My name is--"

"Box Boy," Riddick interrupted him, his voice still amused but somehow less warm than when he'd been talking to Johns.

Santana was nonplussed, "Say what?"

Riddick was looking at him now, his expression still relaxed but now River could feel his underlying tension, as he stood face to face with this monster. "You are the guy who said he was gonna put my head in a box, right?" Rage and disgust warred inside the big convict as he spoke with the man Riddick knew to be a rapist and River felt the profound effort it took to keep those emotions out of his voice and off his face.

Confronted with Riddick, Santana's earlier bravado ran out of him like air out of a balloon, "Well, that was me, spitting noise."

Riddick's expression was colder now, "But you do have a box."

Santana seemed even more confused, "Do I have a...box?"

"Thought I saw one," Riddick looked towards the station for a moment.

Santana recovered, grinning, "Well of course I've got a box. Everyone's got a box man. Even Diaz here has a fucking hug box."

"Good," Riddick told him coldly. "We're gonna use it." 

River nearly sobbed in relief as she got one ankle free and moved to the next one. Riddick was starting at Johns again, "Three down, eight left. Normally I'd just keep going. Six down. Five down." He was enjoying the fear he could smell on the men. His words echoed the phrases she'd used earlier and reemphasized her gift and the reasons they had to be wary of this so very dangerous honest man. She'd known the words he'd use, but Riddick was quite deliberately using the same phrases and cadence to scare the mercs out of reason. "Nine down. You get where I'm goin' with this." His voice was almost gentle. "But things are changin' here. And nobody wants to be on this planet twenty-four hours from now. So I suggest we make it work."

Johns wasn't quite sneering but he wasn't trusting either, "What do you want? A gentleman's agreement?"

River cursed and shuddered as she felt Santana's impatience. Riddick was speaking now, "I'll leave one node out in the open. You take it. The other node and the other ship are mine."

Santana was angry, "Hey, hey, what are we playing here? Retard bingo? That was on the table from the start--"

"Forget the start," Riddick cut him off. She could feel he had no stomach to hear the slimy merc's lies, he wanted the man's neck under his shiv too badly. "It's the end you wanna think about now." River sprang the last shackle even as Riddick gave them his deadline, "See that?" She felt more than saw him turn minutely to indicate the rainstorm behind him. Ominous dark clouds bringing a watery death along with them. I'll give you 'til the rain hits that station. That's your clock." 

He was turning his back, turning to go and Santana would not have that. The merc's greed was overwhelming, taking over his mind. He couldn't stand to see so much money just walk away.

Flinging the chains away felt so good. She sprang to her feet and ran to the doorway. She saw Dahl on her rifle. Lockspur was acting as the spotter. "Luna," She called the boy's name as she hurried forward. "It's going to go wrong. Have to stop it. Bù dé bù! Tranq the dog!" 

And she'd run. As fast as she could, bare feet over hard ground, legs stiff disuse, just in time to see Riddick's sneer, just in time for Santana to decide on taking Riddick's head. The mercs drew weapons as she ran and the dog sprang at Santana, its jaws sinking into the boss merc's shoulder. Santana was groping for his gun, ready to kill this thing that had attacked him. She nearly sobbed as she ran. It couldn't be allowed to happen. Santana would shoot the dog. Riddick would kill Santana. Diaz would kill Riddick. She had to stop it. River ran between Diaz and Johns and sprang at the dog, tackling it off Santana. Now the dog had new prey to fight and the course of events was changed.

The animal's mind wasn't like a dog's. It was more like some strange cross between a wolf and a hyena. It was loyal to Riddick, angry over the bad smelling two legs, and mad that she'd distracted it from its prey. It bit at her arms, at her shoulder, unable to get at her throat, and she rolled so it was on top of her. She could hear Luna's mind in the distance, watching in shock, exhorting Dahl to shoot the dog with a tranq. Riddick had taken at least four tranqs before he'd gone down, on his knees while she'd tackled his pet off of Santana. If the dog was killed Riddick, for a time at least, would be beyond caring about who lived or died.

She heard Dahl's mind, debating and then Johns' barked order, heard the bullet, straight and true, into the side of the animal, felt it stiffen, struggle against the drug and go limp on top of her. She felt Riddick's relief, and his fury at Santana's duplicity. He was still struggling forward, even with the tranqs in his system. Johns' mind was blazing with anger, an ironic twin to Riddick's fury, as he strode forward and she saw through Riddick's strange eyes, felt the blinding pain of the rifle butt coming down on his skull.

She shuddered and carefully dislodged the animal's teeth from her shoulder before trying to slide out from under it. Johns had turned to look at Diaz and Santana and she finally managed to wiggle out from underneath the dog like animal. Getting to her feet wasn't easy but she managed, "Diaz, have to take it with us." She forced the words out. "Need it, to fight the cicadas." She was lying of course. She didn't owe the mercs honesty, and if she could save Riddick's pet it helped prove she was an ally. Riddick was the only person who had helped her get free. He was the only one who deserved the truth from her.

"Shut up," Diaz wasn't looking at her, he was studying Riddick, the convict that had killed so many mercs that he was finally worth more dead than alive. 

“That thing tried to kill your boss, tried to kill you. You've been bitten all over your arms and shoulders but you want to take it back to the station,” Johns’ voice was incredulous and she looked at him and shrugged. 

“Have to take it back with us. Must have it. Need it,” River stressed to the huge merc. When she moved towards Diaz to press her point, the huge man backhanded her. Even with her training, the blow was enough to knock her to the ground.

Johns made some sound of protest and Santana sneered at the other merc boss. "Mind your business," The grimy merc snapped and his feet came to a stop near River's sprawled body. Quick as a snake one foot drew back and kicked her in the ribs. When she gasped in agony, Santana reached down and dragged her up by her hair. She had just enough presence of mind to flinch from the fist he aimed at her face, turning a potentially painful blow into a glancing one.

Diaz ignored them and moved towards the dog, picking the animal up and slinging it over his back. River groaned as Santana's hand wrapped around her upper arm, hard enough to leave a well-defined print in her flesh, and began to drag her back to the station. 

"Shut it," Santana's hand had caught in her hair when he grabbed her arm tighter and it dragged her head back as he marched her towards the station. She couldn't help the cry that sprang from her lips as his free hand smacked her across the face. The blow nearly took her off her feet, but she could see Johns bending down, laboriously slinging Riddick over his back to carry him to the station. 

All too soon they were back at the station, Dahl's expression grim as Santana manhandled River into the building and threw her down on the floor. River avoided another kick of his boots and was hauled to her feet by her other arm. The thought occurred to her that she'd have a set of matched bruises if this kept up. The trick with the beatings was to take just enough hits to make him think he was punishing her, but not enough to break anything badly. 

This would be a bad one though. Santana was ranting, "Think you'll try to kill yourself again? Is that it? Death by jackal? Lose me my edge? You're mine little girl! You're gonna keep on Seein' for us until I say you can die!" His fist hit her side hard enough to knock the breath out of her. She was able to turn minutely and dodge the next blow. Diaz came in carrying the dog, followed by the rest of the mercs. Diaz set the dog down in an out of the way corner and ignored the beating taking place only a yard and a half away. But none of Santana's men ever intervened when Santana's temper was up, not when he was like this.

Santana's rage was growing, as it always did whenever he thought he was losing control of her. His lips screamed abuse and threats as he beat her. His fists hit her ribs, cracking at least one. When she lashed out at him, trying to damage him back, her fist struck his eye and Santana truly lost control. His hand wrapped around her throat and he forced her to the ground. 

Now she fought back frantically, nothing was going to make her endure his body again. The inhuman screech that rose from her throat was that of a cornered animal as his other hand began to work at his belt and the front of his pants. Grace, technique and skill were lost to her as desperation took hold of her brain. Kicking out with bare feet did only so much, though she got his knee with her heel. Her hands curled into claws, ripping at his hair before she tightened them into fists again and aimed for his eyes and mouth and nose. There was a satisfying crunch and a spray of blood before he held her down with one longer arm, and his face too far away for her hit him again.

His grasp on her throat tight and painful, and he'd gotten her thighs apart. His greater reach kept his face away from hers even as his body pinned her down. For a moment it was like the first day all over again. She went mad, wild with the remembered pain and all too current fear and rage; clawing and fighting with all her might even against the choking hand on her neck.

Johns came in carrying Riddick and was followed by his crew. Santana’s hand was unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants, his intent clear. Johns' mind bloomed bright with outrage at the sight. His voice was hard and angry, "Moss, Lockspur, get that animal off her."

She could feel Santana's body lifted off her but his hand still wrapped stubbornly around her throat. River screamed mutely, her voice a furious rasping whisper from her bruised and compressed throat, as his face was pulled away from hers. Dahl's strong hands unwound Santana's fingers from River's flesh, enabling River to scramble backwards, towards the body of the tranqued animal. "È yǒu 'èbào. No matter what they tell you, when it starts, when the chains come off, you go in the first five seconds." Her whisper of a scream was loud in the sudden silence of the station. 

Santana was struggling ineffectually and finally was set down across the station from River, "Chain that bitch back up!" He commanded and Vargas moved forward with a sigh.

Luna followed him and River backed away until her spine was to the wall and the dog was three feet away from her. But there was nowhere else to go and the shackles clamped back around her ankles and onto her wrist.

"Is that really necessary," Moss asked with a derisive look at Santana and what was left of his crew.

Johns was chaining Riddick up in what Luna called the ‘stocks’; a steel frame bolted to the floor, away from anything that could be used as a weapon. Not with a set of shackles like hers though, neither she nor Riddick could get that lucky. They used a special set for him, with a screw key to unshackle him rather than a regular lock. 

Johns looked up from his work at Moss’s question, interested in the answer and Luna filled a bowl with water before he answered, bringing the bowl back to River, "Boss thinks if she's loose she'll try to kill herself again."

"Gee, why would she want to get away from you guys," Dahl's voice was dry as she moved to lean on the other side of the pillar to which River was now chained. River saw Johns give his second an approving nod as she took up a position from which she could easily defend the chained girl.

Luna's hands were gentle as he examined the tooth marks of the dog in her shoulder, "We'll need to clean these out." He said quietly.

"Let her deal with it," Santana's greedy eyes were on Riddick. "Don't waste supplies on her."

"And if she dies of an infection?" Luna asked in his calm steady voice, "She can't see the future if she's dead Boss." 

"Clean her up then and let her sit for a while," Santana retorted. "I don't see anyone rushing to clean out the bite marks that mutt left on me."

River started to make a face and winced as her jaw ached. It was starting to swell a bit. Luna dipped the cloth in the cold water and held it up to her jaw.

"You're too mean to die of sepsis boss," Vargas remarked humorously. In that way he reminded her of Wash, defusing tension with a joke. He was one of the few who hadn't raped her. She wouldn't mind if he lived. Diaz could drop dead where he stood though. And Santana could choke on his own blood. She hoped he would.

"Dahl," Johns didn't say anything else but the female merc nodded once and moved towards their supplies.

"Move kid," She carried a first aid kit towards River.

"No one touches the girl but my people," Santana stopped the woman. "She's not yours. She belongs to me."

Dahl's face was set with disgust but she simply handed Luna the kit and looked at River, "You're all right with him taking care a you?"

"Qián chéng wěi jūn zǐ. Young one, still bright in his heart. Life hasn't dulled the shine yet. Still sees good; in people, in the 'verse. Foolish about God. And no real spine of his own," River forced the words out past her swelling jaw. She was safe in her abusive Chinese. Santana's crew had no real knowledge of it. Luna grabbed a cold pack and put it in her hand, raising the hand to her jaw so the swelling wouldn't get worse.

"The best of the worst?" Johns was asking, studying her as he had Riddick. She'd caught him looking at her several times. It bothered him, to see anyone so small abused and chained. He didn't know who she was though, or he might have chained her himself. Sold her back of his own accord. But he wouldn't have beaten, raped or starved her. 

The only helpful thing Santana had done was purge her records and report her dead. Some judicious husking, if she could get to and repair Mr. Universe's equipment, and she wouldn't exist in the cortex anymore. She could create a new, clean identity, free of Blue Sun, of the corporations. Simply free. Sometimes she thought free and hope were the worst four letter words, because they taunted her so much.

"A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything," River whispered. Johns didn't say anything else, simply studied her, his mind curious about her abilities, how educated she sounded, wondering if she could give him the answers he needed so desperately. "Finally River shook her head at him, "Do not ask questions to which you are unprepared for the answer. Truth is a blade. He will wield it exquisitely, as he does all blades. Conceals, holds back, but never lies outright. Lies are anathema to him, does not cheapen his worth with falsehoods."

She was very much aware of just how much she was scaring all of them. For once she didn't care. Why should she chain her words when they were the only part of her that was free? Why should she care for their fears when they'd allowed her to be shackled again? The words from Books symbol came back to her again and she whispered them, the only prayer she ever uttered to the uncaring God that had abandoned her when she was fourteen. "Deliver me from the workers of iniquity and save me from bloody men."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I had to save Dog or this whole thing would have gone sideways. Riddick looked so darn murderous when Santana shot Dog that I really didn't think he'd listen to anything reasonable afterwards. Not even from River who'd done her best to prove herself an ally. Plus I like Dog and he's going to be fun in the sequel. 
> 
> And we're getting a really good idea here of just why River despises the mercs. Can you blame her? 
> 
> But I hope you all enjoyed this and many thanks to RCoots/Chiza for acting as my beta and general inspiration for this story and the next one.
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> Bù dé bù - have no choice or option but to / cannot but / have to / can't help it / can't avoid
> 
> È yǒu 'èbào - evil has its retribution (idiom)/ to suffer the consequences of one's bad deeds / sow the wind and reap the whirlwind - Hosea 8:7
> 
> Qián chéng - pious / devout
> 
> wěi jūn zǐ - hypocrite
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything. - Friedrich Nietzsche
> 
> Deliver me from the workers of iniquity and save me from bloody men. - Psalm 59:2


	10. Chapter 9 They Ask Me Where I've Been, And What I've Done And Seen

Shirah was in his mind. She fucking loved to come when he was unconscious, when he didn't have a choice about listening. "You must find Furya," She was insistent. "You have only fulfilled part of your destiny. It is time to complete your fate. You must find Furya." The tranqs and rifle butt to the skull had made his words too fuzzy, even in dreams. He was trying to tell her he had no clue where it was, but if she wanted to give him directions he'd go find the place. If she was serious about him finding Furya. It was something he wanted too. But she, like every other blonde he'd gotten near, seemed determined to tease him and disappear.

The voices were vague in his ears... Big Daddy Johns...calling his name. A blow to the face that cleared his head more than time ever could. He heard the big black merc asking quietly, "Johns, we beating men in chains now?"

Riddick managed to not groan as he came to. The fog of the tranqs was clearing from his mind. The sensation of steel around his wrists was familiar and unwelcome. He could hear Kitten talking. Her words were familiar. Words he'd spoken himself, a long time ago to a different, softer blonde, days before he'd tried to rejoin the human race. But her voice was rougher, with a rasp to it. What had happened while he'd been out? The last thing he remembered was the girl tackling the dog off her boss, keeping Santana from shooting Dog in the head. 

"Whispers about the sweet spot, fourth lumbar down, the abdominal aorta. All of you people are so scared of me; most days I take that as a compliment, but it ain't me you gotta worry about now." Her voice changed then, to a drawl, echoing a man long dead by Riddick's design if not his hand, old Billy boy Johns, "He comes back, it's whyever he wants. Maybe to take what you got, maybe to work your nerves, or maybe just to skull-fuck you in your sleep." Shazza's accent took over, pure Dyton, "Sounds like a charmer."

He almost laughed; he could smell the anxiety in the air. Kitten was as good at mind games as he was. She was doing a damn fine job of freaking all of them out yet again. And they didn't even know he was awake yet. He stretched slightly, rotated his head, opened his eyes cautiously and found half-light, easy on his eyes. Looking around he saw the full complement of mercs, plus one little woman. She was all chained up again, and looked like she'd been through the wringer.

Peach Fuzz was sitting near her, tending to her wounds and she had a lot of them. Bruises up and down her arms, shaped like handprints. A black eye, a swollen jaw and the slight rasp in her voice made sense when he got a look at her throat. Someone had nearly choked the life out of her. Add to all that the bite marks his pet had put in her arm and shoulder and she should have been half-dead. She shouldn't even be able to meet his gaze with expressive dark eyes that gleamed with interest and mischief and not a trace of fear. Well that wasn’t precisely right. It wasn't fear of him he was smelling. She wasn't recoiling from him. She was twitchy, nervier than she’d been earlier, but she wasn’t looking at him like she thought he’d do her harm.

He tilted his head slightly, made sure the fresh bruises he saw on her weren’t just a trick of the light, even though he could smell the new blood under her skin, and wondered. Had she known she’d get the beating? From what Falco had said and everything Riddick had witnessed so far, he'd known she got knocked around often enough, but this…this looked like someone had a tantrum and had taken it out on her. A sideways glance at a twitchy and fuming Santana gave him a very good idea of who. Had he stopped on his own or had someone else stepped in? From the way Dahl was looking, he’d bet on the latter, and that it had been something particularly nasty.

He felt the fury roiling through his blood. If Santana had raped her again because she'd saved his Dog, because she'd slipped her chains... He stifled the growl rising in his throat and looked at Dahl, almost standing guard near the beaten girl's pillar. He'd be willing to bet that if Santana had been raping Kitten the female merc wouldn't be nearly as calm about the slimy prick being alive. But she'd been beaten, choked almost to death from the sound of her voice and Santana was going to pay for that. One way or another. Kitten looked like little girl again, hurt and afraid of that bastard and only her eyes hinting to him that she was a grown woman who wanted vengeance. Bruises marring all that white skin and her breathing shallow with pain. Something about that sent his heart pounding with wrath and his blood roaring through his veins in reaction. He pushed the rage back and forced his voice to feigned calm before he spoke.

“So,” He let his voice roll out into the stillness of the room. “Someone got bored and decided beating on a woman less'n half his size was a good way to pass the time? Thought I was the animal here.” He could see his dog, behind the girl, sleeping off the tranq. She had one hand on its flank, stroking the fur of its short coat. If she’d taken a beating because she’d kept Santana from killing his dog…well that was a favor he’d be happy to return.

“To be or not to be, that is the question, whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them,” The girl spoke slowly and carefully and he guessed it wasn’t because she thought everyone in the room was an idiot. The swollen jaw must make talking a bit painful. "Thinks she wished to die by teeth to the throat. Doesn't think about jaws on his own throat, no gun at hand, possibly finding it too late." She rolled her eyes as Santana bristled visibly and scooted further back, closer to the dog, her hand stroking along its spine now. "If she chose to die it would not be by so precarious a method. If she chose to die there is none among this company who could stop her. She lives by her own will and dies by the same." 

Johns glanced at her and then looked at Riddick, "Okay from the beginning... So for the historical record, the Hunter Gratzner, that's the commercial vessel my son uses to transport you back to slam. But that ship sends a distress call somewhere near M344/G. It's a backwater system with three suns, one habitable planet. Does he survive the crash?"

Riddick ignored the question for a moment, his eyes on the beaten woman, smelling of terror and fury whenever her eyes flickered to Santana. It hadn't gotten past him that she'd just told them she knew at least one way to kill herself that they could do nothing about. No one else seemed to have even noticed or cared if they did notice. Idiot mercs. "Big drama in the next few hours," He remarked quietly. "But whatever happens, no matter what they tell you; don't let 'em take these chains off me." 

Johns shook his head, his eyes exasperated, "Fucking hell... Do you know who you're talking to here?"

Riddick moved, turning so his entire body was angled towards Santana, he could see the man's bloodied face very clearly in the less than half-light of the station. Santana moved forward slightly, "That was for me." His voice sounded slightly unnerved.

Riddick nearly smiled, the woman was a fun little kitten to have around if her picking past words out of his head freaked the mercs out that much. Santana was still unnerved from her little speech imitating him on Hades. "When the chains come off, Box Boy, you go in the first five seconds."

There was a long loud pause as everyone froze and looked from him to the girl, who just shrugged, "She only Sees. She does not...interpret. That is not her job. She is the edge. She is not the hand on the blade." Her voice was dripping with disdain, "They never listen. They talk and talk but they never listen. Teeth in the ground. Rain scours the land clean. Cicadas. The plagues of Egypt come to life. Bái mù mercs."

Luna looked at her in shock while Riddick smirked and Santana began to bluster. He was deliberately ignoring the girl, focusing his derision on Riddick as if he wasn't unnerved by the entire situation and her seeming prediction of his death. "Really. You're planning on killing me with what? Your mouth?"

"That shiny blade," Riddick nodded at the machete Santana held, bouncing, in his hand.

Santana nearly snorted, "I'd love to see you try."

Riddick continued to stare at the blustering merc even as he answered Johns' question, "For the historical record. He made it."

Johns came back and sat down on the box, "So it was just you and him?"

Riddick looked at the clean cut merc and then at Santana again, remembering. The girl's eyes were on him and he wondered if she knew the story the way she'd known about the Necros and the prophecy, or if she was hearing this for the first time. Had she Seen in her visions what had happened to his people? His planet? He gazed around the room, doing a mental count. Dahl had moved now that the little woman was being left alone, she stood with the rest of the mercs. "There was, uh...the same number you see here in this room, if you don't count the woman or the dog."

"So how many made it off," Johns asked quietly.

"Three," Riddick knew that answer without even thinking. Jack, the Imam and himself, all on that tiny skiff. The other two were gone now. Dead just like everyone else who got close to him. The Imam had lost his children but he hadn't lost his faith. It had been unwavering even in the face of the Black of space and the uncaring stars. Jack had shivered and slept curled in a ball at his feet until he'd covered her with a blanket and moved her so her back was pressed against his outstretched legs on the aisle floor. She'd been minimally warmer then. She'd been almost too small for cryo. Fourteen was barely old enough. She had to have been running from something bad to risk it. He forced his mind away from the past and concentrated on the merc in front of him.

"But not him," Boss Johns said with certainty.

"No." Riddick looked past Johns at Santana again. He wanted that man's blood, wanted to taste it. For shooting a woman fleeing for her life. For the girl he'd obviously raped, beaten, and then chained like a dog. For what he would have done if he'd gotten ahold of that gun. For saying he would put Riddick's head in a box. For a million reasons. But what it all came down to was that he'd die for being what he was. A merc. Scum. A man without the decency of the animal anywhere in him.

"So between the time of the crash and the time you leave that planet my son dies," Johns' voice was quiet, controlled but with an edge of grief. Riddick almost could have felt sorry for the man. It was never easy news to get, or to speculate on. And if he were Johns, a horrifying thought in itself, he'd have just shot the convict in front of him without a second thought. But Johns needed to know. Needed to be certain he was right. "And I can safely assume it's at your hands. Is that right?" Johns pushed himself up from the box angrily, "Wasting my fucking time here."

Riddick didn't chuckle but he did let his amusement show in his voice. It was time to play just a bit. The women, both the merc and the chained girl were watching him. The girl's eyes were dark, interested, curious; peering at him out of the shadows. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, tongue rubbing thoughtfully on the scar. Dahl's gaze was cooler, more speculative, but like any predator, she kept her eyes on the most dangerous thing in the room, "Grant any last wishes?" Riddick asked still staring straight ahead, a half smile tugging at his lips. He turned his gaze towards Dahl, "I was referring to you."

Dahl's mouth gave a half quirk upwards, "Not that the chains aren't a hot look. But no. I'm not gonna straddle you in front of all these guys."

"What if I killed all of 'em first?" Riddick was curious now and in the corner the girl in chains huffed with quiet laughter.

"Easy boy," Dahl's body was warm, loose and half relaxed. "There's a lot more tranq where that came from."

"Tell me what you see outside that window Dahl," Riddick requested. He even kept his tone fairly polite. He could hear the rain hitting the ground, the strange noises of the nasty crawdad mud things. He didn't know if the things hatched or just hibernated like the cicadas the Seer had named them but they were coming. Near her pillar, Kitten shifted slightly and he saw her hands in the darkness, moving quietly over the shackles on her ankles. She was picking her locks again. Smart little woman. Her smirk at him hinted that she thought so too.

Dahl pushed herself off the table where she was sitting and moved to the window, "Cyclops unit, two ships, coupla dead guys in plastic." She looked at him 

"And you don't see anything else?" Riddick wondered. Part of him was impressed at how quietly the tiny woman was picking her locks. He was one of the only people he knew of who could manage it with an improvised tool. If his hearing couldn't pick it up then none of the mercs would catch it.

"Nothin' else," Dahl told him flatly.

"Lemme know when you do," Riddick told her. Dahl turned away from the window and started back to her seat. "Love those toenails by the way," He grinned.

"Yeah?" She gave him an almost flirtatious smile before it smoothed into her normal smirk. "Predator pink."

Then he dropped his little grenade, "Matches your nipples."

She paused and gave him a look that probably should have killed him dead where he sat before she looked over at the girl who was sitting with her chains. "You couldn't have mentioned he was watching me?"

The girl shrugged at her, "Watching isn't hurting. Probably watched her too. She does not complain like an outraged virgin." 

"He's not making comments about your nipples," Dahl sniped back.

The girl smirked, "She was not stupid enough to strip when there were nine men in the vicinity. Nothing exposed for him to see. He may comment on her bruises or scars or mouth."

"Is that an invitation Kitten?" Riddick tilted his head towards the little woman curiously. She didn't smell like lust the way Dahl still did, at least partially.

"It is a statement of fact," She shrugged at him. Her eyes were interested but her body wasn't. Contradictory little creature. But then, if he'd been through what she had, he wouldn't exactly want any man near him either. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly as she looked from him to the mercs and back again, "She sees yōu míng. He may say what he likes. Words do not hurt her. Any man who touches her in a wrong fashion will go to the special hell. The one reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theatre. Even if she must send them there herself." 

Riddick gave her an appreciative wink before he regarded the rest of the mercs. She'd meant every word she said. And graceful as she was, she could probably do it. Hell, if she wanted to try he'd lend her a shiv and back her play. The mercs thought she was spitting noise though. Dahl was rolling her eyes as if she of all people shouldn't know just how dangerous a woman could be. None of the men besides Santana seemed the slightest bit uneasy by her words. But then...if Santana had caught her, he'd have seen her sheet. So maybe he knew he should be worried. But the boss merc of a rapidly dwindling crew was blustering again, bolstering his courage with his ranting.

"Why are we even listening to this fuckstick," Santana ranted. "Can't we just detach his head please?"

Johns moved forward and crossed his arms, very much the way his son once had stood before him, "Here's what's gonna happen. In the next sixty seconds you're gonna watch your own head drop into that box. And nothing, nothing is gonna keep you from that special place in hell." Riddick looked up at Johns, curiosity behind the impassive mask he wore, as the merc stared down at him, "Maybe for the last minute of your life you wanna be something more than a goddamn savage!" His voice rose to a shout in the last few words, "Gimme some fuckin' answers! Please!"

Riddick thought for a moment and then looked back down without speaking. There was no way he was going to give this man the story of what had happened on the planet he privately referred to as Hades, in honor of Paris. That story wasn't something he was willing to share with anyone. The little woman might have Seen it or maybe she Read it but he was damned if was going to tell this merc. The only people who had any right to hear his voice speaking about Hades were gone. Dead and gone and not by his hand, not either of them.

"Now is there anything you'd like to add on the subject I just raised?" Johns asked quietly, in control of his voice again.

Riddick saw one of Johns' men, Lockspur, looking out the window and glanced to the side. The girl, little woman, he mentally corrected himself, had both hands in her lap. The free one was moving. She was almost done with the shackles. That was good. He wouldn't have time to deal with her locks. The rain was coming, he could hear it. He looked up as the first drops hit the ground outside and then the station roof. "Time's up," He said quietly.

Johns nodded, jerkily, his face a study in suppressed misery. "Time is up." He turned away, passing Santana, "He's all yours."

Santana nodded to Diaz, who stood just behind Riddick, "Hold him down." He shoved the box closer and the machete gleamed as Riddick's head was forced down, his shoulders straining as his body was pressed forward. The edge of the blade touched the back of his neck and he saw the girl stiffen, straighten minutely as if she would make a move to stop Santana.

Now wasn't the time. If she made any move to help him now, they'd kill her. It wouldn't take long before they all had bigger problems than him. The station was made to hold out weather, but not much else. He glared at her from the corner of his eyes, trying to warn her off. She relaxed minutely and he wondered exactly what her gift was. She was psychic obviously but it had to be more than just Precognition if she was reacting to his thoughts. He hadn't been sure earlier. 

But if she was Reading his mind she wasn't like the Quasi Dead. There was no pain. No sensation of someone pressing needles into his brain while they pulled out his thoughts. The way she reacted to him though, she had to be picking up something from his mind. That was fine with him right now, though his mind wasn't exactly a place a pretty woman would feel at home. 

Santana brought the blade up but before he could start his downswing, the cyclops went crazy outside. Dahl and Vargas reacted first, "More dingo dongos maybe." Vargas theorized.

Santana sneered and backed away from Riddick. "Lucky," He nearly spat as he followed his man outside.

He waited and watched as the mercs streamed outside, all but the one, Lockspur, who paused by him. "I know what's coming. The serpents," The merc murmured. 

Luna was the only one remaining, and he moved from near Riddick's side to crouch by the girl, "Can you tell me any more of what's coming?"

"Told him already. Cicadas. The plague of Egypt. Teeth in the ground." She repeated the same thing she had before. "Luna should help Johns. His gun will be of more use than her words right now."

Luna nodded and rushed outside. Riddick looked at the woman and smirked, "That's a nice trick you got there."

The smile that twisted her lips was easy to see in the shadows, "She has spent a long time making certain that her words of prophecy are trusted. The only game she could play. When the opponent is unarmed she always wins mind games."

He chuckled and nodded, "Tell me; while I was out, what did Santana do to you? Besides the beating." He wanted to know. The man was going to die anyway but he wanted to know for sure.

"He attempted what he did before," Her voice had a tremble to it. Fear and pain were rising off her skin. "Johns came in, told his men to pull him off me. Dahl had to pry his fingers off my throat. His pants were undone. Pì yǎnr, gāi sǐ gǒu niáng yǎng de, è guàn mǎn yíng." The tsunami of Chinese must have been cursing from the amount of venom in her voice.

"Did he?" Riddick felt his voice go hard, fury pulsing through his veins. If he didn't control his shit, the mark Shirah had given him would fry every node and circuit in this place. Not that he much cared but he'd also be down for the count and that was just bad timing.

"No penetration, only the will to do so," She sounded as if she was reassuring him for all that he could smell the fear and revulsion on her still. "She has her liberty. She will do her liking if he does not keep his promise to Santana."

"Stay where you are. Dog's wakin' up woozy. Gotta keep him calm," Riddick told her. "Put a hand on his neck. And don't back down."

"Men are so yú chǔn. She is just as Alpha as he," The girl rolled her eyes, dark gems in the shadows of the station, and scooted back towards the animal, carefully bringing her chains with her. She tugged its body away from the metal wall laboriously and put its head in her lap. 

He could hear the cicadas, as the girl called them, screeching in hunger as they climbed out of the ground. The mercs streamed back in, their faces horrified. Riddick looked at them, "Like I said. It ain't me you gotta worry about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So what did we think? I didn't want Riddick's reaction to the beating to be too over the top protective. But at the same time he and River are on the same page here, Santana really needs to die. I always got the impression that Riddick really wasn't interested in bullying people smaller or weaker than he was. He pretty much left the civilians alone in Pitch Black even when they were fairly derogatory about him. If you left him alone he'd leave you alone. 
> 
> So I wanted River to intrigue him enough that he'll watch her and help her break out but he wouldn't 'rescue' her. She doesn't want rescue. She wants an opportunity to escape for herself. And that's something he would respect. And a captive aiding and abetting his attempts to screw with the mercs? Messing with their brains? I thought that would tickle his fancy a bit. 
> 
> He's still Riddick though, a lecherous hump, (to use Mal's words), and I didn't want to lose that part of him because its so pronounced in this last film. 
> 
> So what did we think? Are we enjoying this so far or have I gone too far afield with the character interaction? 
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> Bái mù - stupid / Lit. white-eyed, blind / not understanding the situation and reacting in a wrong way as a result
> 
> yōu míng - the hidden and the visible / that which can be seen and that which cannot / darkness and light / night and day / wisdom and ignorance / evil and good / the living and the dead / men and ghosts
> 
> Pì yǎnr - bastard / slob / asshole
> 
> gāi sǐ gǒu niáng yǎng de - damned son of a bitch
> 
> è guàn mǎn yíng - lit. strung through and filled with evil - idiom; filled with extreme evil / replete with vice / guilty of monstrous crimes
> 
> yú chǔn - silly / stupid


	11. Chapter 10:  Though I Must Bear the Blame, Because He Bore My Name

River sat with the dog and watched quietly as all hell broke loose. The mercs were muttering, worried, "What the fuck is out there," Luna wanted to know.

"I dunno," Moss admitted as he slid down the ladder inside the station.

Diaz had his gun out, hands ready to shoot, "Fuckin' gotta be somethin' out there."

Moss was shaking his head, "It ain't right. Whatever it is, it ain't right. And it's comin' our way."

Lockspur began shooting out the window, startling all of them into spinning towards him. He leaned back against the door as he reloaded, "Whatever they are, they ain't so hard to kill."

River shook her head and began to pat the dog's neck. It wasn't awake yet. Apparently Riddick shook the tranqs off easier than it did. But touching it was reassuring. It helped her remain calm against the alien minds, the madness of overwhelming hunger that surrounded the station.

Before Lockspur could begin shooting again he was speared through the chest as something came through the door and out his frontal ribcage. Blood gurgled and the thing began to slam him against the window grate. She could smell his blood, hear the creak of bone as he was beaten, until it had used him as a battering ram and the grate had a head sized hole in it. 

As one, every merc in the room began firing out the open hole, the noise deafening in the closed space. Moss strode forward, drew his handgun and began to fire again, positioning himself under the skylight. It broke and glass rained down on him even as he fired the full clip and slammed another home. Before he could raise the gun to shoot, something huge reached down and wrapped around him, dragging him up and out of the station.

The walls shook around them and River scooted herself further away from the trembling metal as Dahl shouted to Johns, "What the fuck?" 

Everyone but River and Riddick dashed around the station, slamming the storm blinds down, and locking doors. She could feel the panic in the room, knew that Riddick could smell it and nearly smiled in satisfaction. Even if she got killed on this planet, she was free. And if it was the last thing she did, she'd kill Diaz before she died. Riddick was going to kill Santana. She knew it. And the boss merc would never let his guard down around her long enough for her to kill him herself. 

The mercs were all twitchy and Diaz was aiming his gun at the ceiling. River exchanged an amused glance with Riddick as Santana showed rare good sense and put his hand on Diaz's arm, restraining him slightly and reminding the huge merc. "No more holes please."

The ceiling indented hugely as something crawled across it, and everyone jumped slightly. Then Riddick decided to play a bit more. River couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped her as he began to laugh, banging his cuffs on the metal frame of the stocks. His laugh was a deep rich cackle of satisfaction, malicious and sweet in her ears.

"Now here's what's gonna happen," Riddick told them, not even bothering to look up as he smirked. "In sixty seconds you're gonna take these chains off me. We're gonna make a play for those nodes and get off this rock. And somewhere along the line. When it gets really bad..." Riddick looked up slightly, staring at the boss merc. "Johns...is gonna fold just like little Johns did..." River watched as Johns stared coldly at Riddick, unmoved by the taunt, unconcern in every line of his body. "Then when it's all over..." The convict's silver eyes scanned the remaining mercs derisively, "And the rest of you are waiting for dead animal pick up." He stared at the merc woman, lust deliberately filling his voice and his mind, "I'm gonna go balls deep into Dahl." 

River smirked to herself. He was very good at mind games. He could tell that Dahl found him attractive, to an extent enjoyed the attention he bestowed on her. But Dahl was glaring at him, her jaw stiff and angry. Dahl seemed to think that Riddick would take her by force, the furthest thing from the convict's mind. Still...Riddick wasn't done yet. That gorgeous voice continued to roll over River's skin, pleasing her senses as he spoke, "But only 'cause you ask me to, sweet-like." He leered teasingly at Dahl, his mind full of her naked body, water dripping off her fingers. 

Riddick paused for a moment. River could feel him considering, how to include her without terrifying her, before he spoke, "Less someone else beats you to it. Someone who ain't afraid of animals, ain't afraid of blood, don't seem to mind eyes in the dark." He turned his head and looked at River, silver eyes gleaming, remembering how gracefully she'd moved when she bathed. He still had lust in his mind but he'd tamed it, remembering her beauty more than his desire for her. However, Riddick's thoughts made it plain that he did desire her; he was still a male after all. 

River smirked at him and rolled her eyes, "Dēng tú Zǐ. The Riddick is a lecherous man. She is more interested in learning to make shivs than sex." She could enjoy his voice, its beauty, but still have no interest in anything more. She could feel that he knew that already, knew she wasn't interested in sex, not at all these days. For the sake of his game, his mind fuck of the mercs, she couldn't be left out. 

If she asked him, he'd go balls deep in her too, but he'd never do it to hurt her, not this man. It would only be if she asked. River could feel it, in his mind, it was engraved on his bones, that he did not touch any woman who was unwilling. To Riddick, in her Read of his mind, that made her untouchable, sacrosanct. He truly did have the spirit of an animal, of a warrior. Rape wasn't sex. He was interested in survival and sex in that order, like any animal. He wasn't the savage Johns had called him.

"I could teach you all sortsa things," Riddick's dark voice promised her, voice sensual and his mind still heated with appreciation of her beauty. But even as part of his mind lingered on the stored images of her bathing, Riddick was considering what sort of knife would suit her and if she'd take to carving bone like he did. He was intrigued by her interest in learning from him and could tell from her scent that she was honest in her curiosity. It was in his thoughts that no one had ever been interested in learning from him, not since he'd left Jack/Kyra on Helion Prime with the Imam. He liked that, liked that she saw something in him worth learning.

Vargas was not thrilled, "What does he mean when things go bad? What about this doesn't qualify as bad?" He looked at Riddick angrily. 

"What the fuck is happening? How fucked are we," Dahl wanted to know. She moved closer to Riddick glaring. Her angry eyes looked from the convict to River and back again. 

River shrugged, "Many years of hunger, woken by the rain. Rain is life. Huò bù dān xíng." When the mercs simply stared at her she rolled her eyes, "When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions."

Riddick chuckled in agreement, "Who knows how long it'll rain. Or just how many of them are buried out there?"

River tilted her head thoughtfully, "She posits an average of thirty two adults per six square yards." She shrugged sheepishly when he looked at her, "Brain does math without permission. Apologies."

His chuckle was appreciative even as Vargas snapped angrily, "He saw it. He saw it with those eyes of his and he didn't tell us what."

The ceiling began to sink again, and all the mercs aimed their weapons fruitlessly at the corrugated metal except for Johns. Johns took a seat on the box near Riddick. "One ship for you," Riddick said quietly, looking at the floor for a moment. "One for me and my dog. Kitten can go where she likes. Felines usually do."

"I need to know that these nodes are retrievable," Johns' concern was practical.

"And I need to know that have a deal," Riddick's head lifted and silver eyes stared back at the merc.

Johns jerked his head once. River tilted her head as the merc nodded again. To get his second in command and the others off the rock he'd even sacrifice his own ship. "We got a deal."

Strangely enough, or perhaps not so strangely, Riddick looked at her for confirmation and River stared at the merc for a moment before she spoke, "He is speaking the truth. He wants to protect what is left of his people. He will keep the bargain."

Riddick gave her a half smile of thanks for her verification as Johns began to unshackle him, turning the screw key in the shackle on Riddick's right ankle. Santana objected though, with his machete on Johns' shoulder, the edge pressed close to his neck, "The chains stay on."

Johns slanted a glance at Dahl and she came at Santana, knocking the blade away but taking a punch to the face as a result. Disoriented, she tried to right herself. By the time she was upright, Diaz had grabbed her, Vargas and Luna had their guns up, and Santana's blade was back on John' shoulder.

"Why don't we sit this one out," Diaz muttered to Dahl.

And Johns, who'd only gotten the one shackle unlocked, stopped what he was doing as Santana's blade began to press into his skin, "Okay. Okay." He held his hands up.

Santana prodded him upward with the blade, "Up, up, up, up, up." He smirked, "Good doggy." 

The merc looked at Riddick and brought the machete up again, then swung back down towards Riddick with a roar. Before the blade could come anywhere near the chained man's skin, Riddick kicked the hilt of it out of Santana's hand with his unshackled foot. The machete embedded itself in the ceiling, swaying slightly.

Quick as lightening, Riddick drew the same leg back and kicked Santana hard in the chest, throwing the merc back against the wall locker. Santana groaned and River smirked. Between Dahl and Riddick, Santana had been having a very bad couple of days. The merc pulled himself to his feet and stood, his back to the locker, reeling a bit, and faced Riddick as the machete surrendered to gravity and began to fall back down.

River smiled in admiration as Riddick caught the blade and balanced it on the top of his boot before flinging it forward towards Santana. It sliced cleanly through the mercs skull and Riddick shoved the plastic box at Santana's feet. The top of Santana's head slid forward, leaving his lower jaw and the base of his skull intact, and fell into the clear plastic box.

Vargas shouted in dismay and Luna actually cursed, "Holy shit."

River petted Dog and crooned to him, gently coaxing him out of sleep, ignoring the mercs even though she couldn't help hearing them. Diaz was looking at the body of his boss and nodding, "Yeah," The huge merc drawled sarcastically and jerked his head at Riddick. "Let's cut him loose."

Dahl just looked impressed. "That was five seconds."

Riddick was staring straight at the now crumpled body of Santana, "I like to be a man of my word." He turned his head and looked at the remaining merc boss, "How 'bout you? Johns?"

River watched as Johns set about unlocking Riddick, and wondered if any of them would even think to do the same for her. No one seemed to remember she was there in their fear of the convict, not until Dog growled when Johns' foot came too close to her. Poor Dog, he was starting to wake up and it was not on the right side of the bed. He needed to sleep some more.

"Who's got the key to the girl's cuffs?" Johns wanted to know. "I'm not letting Riddick loose and keeping a little girl chained up." He finished unshackling the convict and stood.

"I don't think you gotta worry about that Johns," Riddick drawled and River nodded pushed Dog's head off her thigh so she could slip out from under his weight and climbed to her feet. The chains fell out of her lap, ringing as they hit the floor and she shrugged the cuffs off. The noise irritated Dog enough that he crouched and then pushed his funny greyhound/hyena body upwards with a little moan.

"Why wouldn't you just--" Dahl didn't finish the sentence, shaking her head.

River looked at her thoughtfully. "Should she have continually tried to escape? With nowhere to go and only two ships? Earned even more of a beating?" Dog leaned against her and she stroked his neck. He was huge compared to her, coming up to her chest. "She hasn't had shackles off in over a year."

"How're your wrists? Ankles?" Riddick wanted to know as he stood up and moved away from the stocks. His big hands were twitching slightly and Dog moved towards him, still a little woozy.

River moved forward, ignored Johns and showed Riddick her wrists. They were raw, scraped in spots, but Luna had done a good job of trying to protect her skin. "She is fit for duty."

"All right then," Riddick nodded. "Stick close until you can get on the ship." She nodded; she knew which one they'd have to take. Santana's ship. Johns wouldn't suffer Riddick to take his own ship if he could prevent it. That was fine. She knew Santana's ship very well.

8888

Riddick watched as the mercs dealt out bullets and death to all the mudbugs they could see. He stood in the doorway and waited. No weapons meant he couldn't exactly do them any good. Kitten was standing with Dog behind him, murmuring numbers. He listened for a moment, figuring out the connection between the mercs in front of him and the little woman muttering behind him. She was tallying the kill count. The scent of worry was rising off her skin as she began some other calculation and he wondered what that was.

"Amount of giant, carnivorous, crawdads per square yard," Kitten's soft voice was sweet as she spoke behind him. "The odds are not...fortuitous. The dice of God are always loaded."

Finally, they'd cleared enough of the monsters that he could move forward and unlock Johns' ship. A toss of Vargas' key to Kitten and she was opening Santana's. She'd coaxed Dog into coming with her, all soft voice and gentle hands, but firm when she looked the animal in the eye.

Luna was praying, talking about angels and drowning out Kitten's voice. Vargas was yelling at Luna to shut the fuck up. Johns', perhaps having some idea that a praying merc was better than a panicking one, yelled back at Vargas, "You shut the fuck up Vargas, leave the kid alone."

Vargas turned away as the ramp hit the ground. Riddick was constantly amazed at the things people waited for. The little woman had just climbed into Santana's ship, getting Dog to leap in after her. She hadn't bothered to wait for the ramp.

Something squealed and leapt out of the mud onto Vargas' calf, latching on hard, and the merc cursed. He looked down in shock and then up at Diaz who was aiming at the mudbug. "No, no, don't!" But Diaz was already shooting, and the mudbug was mush. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bastard! You coulda killed me."

"Got it didn't I?" Diaz shrugged. Vargas took another step and then stiffened. Shock rolled over him as the paralytic venom hit his blood and took effect. He fell backwards, his gun on his chest, struggling to breathe even as Diaz urged him to get up. "Vargas get up. Vargas, get up, c'mon let's go." The engineer continued to shake and struggle and Diaz's voice hardened, "Vargas c'mon, get up and walk it off. Let's go. It's just a little one."

Riddick shook his head, "Small ones are the worst." He told them from the top of the ramp, "They save the most venom." Even as he said it, Vargas' struggle ceased and his head fell back, eyes staring upwards, empty of life. The venom had stopped his breathing. Riddick turned away but Luna caught his eye, "And kid. Leave God outa this. He wants no part of what happens next."

They were getting the hogs ready for travel when he heard Santana's ship close. But he didn't hear the locks engage. Smart. He looked up to put eyes on the girl, and he really needed to stop calling her that in his head, he wasn't a gorram merc. 

What he saw was...not exactly what he'd expected. He'd figured Kitten would get Dog into Santana's ship and come back to stay with Dahl. The female merc would make sure she was all right since Kitten didn't have a weapon of her own. He hadn't counted on what he was seeing. "Wǒ cào," He swore in admiration. Johns turned to look and blinked for a moment, shock in his scent, while Dahl tilted her head and smirked approvingly.

Kitten had gotten herself all decked out. She'd found a set of modified knee high combat boots that were too small to be anyone's but her own. Her skirt and shirt were still tattered, but a weapons belt hung on her waist and crisscrossed down to her hips, a gorgeously curved axe rubbing against her leg while twin Ladysmith pistols rested in holsters, the leather straps wrapping around her lower thighs. She'd torn her skirt up the middle, and used strips of it to wrap the fabric tight to her legs in a weird set of trousers, for easier movement. She had another weapon harness over her shoulders with a LeMat in a left shoulder holster and a long curved sword slung across her back. He could see at least four knives, daggers really, two of them strapped to her wrists and two in her boots. 

"She said that she is fit for duty," The girl said gravely as she presented herself. She'd even sacrificed a strip of fabric to tie her hair back and bundle it into a knot that wouldn't get caught in pincers or claws. 

"So you are," Riddick smiled. He'd been hoping she could use a knife. But this was beyond any expectation he could have had. He didn't think he'd see anything sexier than Kitten washing up; but seeing her all ready for battle, blades and guns... The sting of desire that was waking in him was just a bit too much for the circumstances and he had to work on throttling that shit back. There was no time for him to go thinking on Kitten like that now. 

She gave him a look of semi approval and shrugged before she climbed aboard the hog he was standing beside. Johns did not care for that. Riddick watched the merc's face and wondered what was wrong with the man. The woman was wearing more weapons than the mercs. They were obviously hers, not borrowed; the harnesses were custom fit and the weapons were all sized to her hands and build. But Johns didn't seem to even notice all that. It was like the merc thought she was still a helpless little girl.

"I don't know what you think you're doing but this isn't a pleasure ride," Johns told her. "You're staying here. I don't care how many weapons you can pile on, it's not safe. You're in no shape for this." Riddick watched as Johns repeated his earlier mistake, grabbing the girl by the arm and dragging her off the bike.

The ring of her sword wasn't all that surprising. Where she chose to aim it shouldn't have been much of a shock, given her history, "Men value their dangly bits so highly." Kitten was pressing her sword right between Johns' legs. "She will ride along, or no merc here will have any dangly bits left."

Riddick couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. He hadn't still managed to get the drop on Johns but the Kitten had managed it. Twice. She slanted a slightly irritated look at him, "Shouldn't laugh when he has acted like a man whore for years. Values his bits as highly as any other male."

He shrugged at her, "So? Make no secret of it. No apologies neither." Riddick couldn't help himself, she was too damn gorgeous for him to not flirt at this point. He leaned in closer to her and gave the little woman a cheerful and lust filled grin. "But for the record Kitten, nothing about me is 'bitty'."

She nodded solemnly, "Noted." And sounded for all the world as if she really were filing the information away. Johns seemed frozen and shocked, and she sighed with irritation, "The little girl isn't. She comes along to find the nodes. Or the bái mù mercs will find out just how well she can use her blades." She looked from Johns to Dahl and then back again, "Wasting time." 

Riddick watched as she climbed back onto his bike, taking the front part of the seat so she wouldn't have to use as much strength to hang on. It'd be safer for her, to have his bulk behind her. He looked around for the goggles and found them just as she turned and regarded him impatiently, "This day is called the feast of Crispian. Time to go. Or is the murderer afraid of her too?"

Riddick handed her the goggles, "Ready when you are Kitten. Just keep the claws in all right?" She examined the goggles with a frown, adjusted the strap, and he wondered why she'd suddenly smelled sad over the things. As quickly as he caught the scent, it was suppressed and he set the notion aside. He climbed on the hog behind her and paused as Johns stopped them and removed the built in rail gun from the bike.

"I forgot to mention, there's no weapons for you," The merc told him flatly. Riddick could understand that but that didn't mean he liked it. Riddick just pushed the handles up into driving position and didn't answer. Johns looked at him, a shade of doubt colored the merc's scent, "You think you can ride one of these things?"

Kitten was a warm, light, weight in front of him and Riddick grinned, "I'll ride it like I stole it." He heard that wicked little giggle from her and bent to murmur in her ear, "Hold on woman. This is gonna get rough."

"Always is," She nodded and he gunned the engine. They took a hard bounce but Kitten stayed on the bike and so did he so it was all right. She was laughing as if this was the most fun she'd had in an age. He had to admit it was kinda nice. Pretty woman, all knives and guns, voluntarily riding with him instead of the upstanding merc... Yeah this wasn't bad.

He could hear the other two bikes behind him, and looked down at the girl; he'd have to stand up to get a good look at the terrain. "Diaz and Johns are behind us." She shouted into the wind, "She will brace herself well. Riddick should look for his landmarks."

He was getting the impression that she was a lot more of a Reader than she'd ever let on to the mercs. Good for her. That she wasn't worried about him knowing made him wonder about her sanity, but then again they were allies of a sort. He stood so he could see the land around them and nodded in satisfaction as he was able to see the land around them. The wind was harsh on his eyes but it was worth it to get his bearings.

He sat back down and leaned forward again, "You're gonna need to hang on real tight. Gotta invert this fucker, torch some a those bastards down there. I figure fire's gonna hurt 'em real bad."

"Too bad we don't have grenades," The girl rejoined and surprised him by squirming and turning around so that her face was against his chest and her legs were wrapped around his waist. He'd have to think about it later. Right now he had some bugs to torch.

He gunned the engine and began the hard rotation of the hog. Her body actually helped to keep his body steady on the bike. She'd locked her ankles under the seat behind him, holding them both on. "Stay like that for now," He told her. "Don't know if we'll have to do that again." And he liked how she felt, pressed against him. Hard little fingers pinched his side and he chuckled, yeah, he'd bet even money the girl was a Reader. 

They had one really bad moment, when the cliff they were riding along just seemed to drop out from under them and they weren't quite freefalling over a sea of the gorram mudbugs. He nearly lost his hold on the bike, one hand clinging to the damn handles while she cursed steadily and fought to regain her grip on the seat, both of them nearly flying loose for a heart stopping thirty seconds. Then they managed to regain their seats, the girl wrapped around him and the bike even tighter than before. 

He heard a metallic clang behind him and was trying to figure who'd hit what when Kitten spoke up, "Diaz has knocked Johns off his bike. We must go back for him or forfeit our bargain. Also, Dahl has orders to shoot you if you come back without Diaz and Johns. Non specific as to before or after sex."

"Not you?" Riddick laughed in her ear and turned the bike in the direction she'd indicated. He could see Johns on the ground now. It looked like the merc and his hog had taken a tumble down the side of the cliff.

By the time they got there Johns was killing mudbugs. The girl handed Riddick one of her guns and leapt off the bike and into combat with one that was sneaking up behind the merc. Her sword and axe flashed and spun and she carved up two of the bugs before Johns turned around at Riddick's whistle to see the convict sitting on the bike. 

"You asshole motherfucker!" Johns shouted, "Just sittin' there watchin'--"

"Kitten had your back," Riddick interrupted. He held up the gun, slightly too small for his hand, "And I had you both covered." He looked at the little woman who was cleaning off her blades as fastidiously as a cat would clean its claws. "Woman was off the damn hog before I could ask to borrow a blade."

She shrugged at him, "In this way she proves that she is not little. Not useless and not dead weight." She sent a glare at the merc and Riddick had to wonder what Johns had been thinking to earn that look. "And she is not interested in a 'protector' either." Johns visibly flinched at that.

Riddick couldn't help the growl that rose in his chest at the thought of this woman being forced to trade her body for... He cut the thought off and patted the back of the bike. "How bad do you want those nodes Johns?"

The girl, Kitten, he mentally corrected, smirked and climbed back on the bike in front of him turning as if to wrap her legs around his waist again. He shook his head and she paused, looking up at him with a frown of confusion. "Better face front. It's smoother from here on and I doubt Johns wants your feet anywhere near his balls Kitten."

Her giggle was appreciative as she faced the front, "Man would know the sensitivities better than she. She merely exploits the obvious."

"Yeah," Johns groaned in memory and climbed on the back of the bike, injured dignity in every line of his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So?I figured Johns being Johns he wouldn't want River coming along. And River being much like the Kitten Riddick named her, pretty much does what she wants. Plus she doesn't much like mercs in the first place so any chance to confound, threaten or wig them out would be seized.
> 
> How do we like Riddick's reactions in this chapter? Think they're in character? 
> 
> I have to thank RCoots again for her help editing this story. You should all check out the stories she's got on the FF site. Totally awesome Riverick fics.
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> Dēng tú Zǐ - Dengtu Zi, famous lecherous character / lecher / skirt-chaser
> 
> Huò bù dān xíng - misfortune does not come singly - idiom / it never rains but it pours
> 
> Wǒ cào - holy fuck
> 
> bái mù - stupid / Lit. white-eyed, blind / not understanding the situation and reacting in a wrong way as a result
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions. - Hamlet - William Shakespeare
> 
> The dice of God are always loaded. - Ralph Waldo Emerson
> 
> This day is called the feast of Crispian. - Henry V - William Shakespeare


	12. Chapter 11: Mad In Pursuit and In Possession So

River was getting to like the nickname Riddick had given her. No one had ever called her Kitten in her life so there were no associations. He was actively trying to avoid calling her girl, even mentally. He had no idea how much she appreciated that. She'd been the girl, the thing, in one form or another ever since she was fourteen. 

Riddick's body was like a solid wall of warm muscle at her back. He could have shaken her off a dozen times. Once they'd almost lost the bike, but he'd still let her cling to him, until they found purchase on the hog again. And most importantly, he hadn't told her that she couldn't come along. When she'd presented herself to him, he'd been pleased. His thoughts had been...well they'd been Riddick-like. If the man had a thought about a woman that wasn't sexual, she was probably underage. But he did try to not think that way about her overmuch. Apparently seeing her armed with daggers, sword, axe and guns came under the heading of 'too sexy to ignore no matter how much she'd hate me thinking it'. It was funny in a way, how all men, even superior specimens like Riddick, were similar.

Johns was hanging onto the back of the bike. He refused to hang onto Riddick. His initial compromise was to wrap an arm around her waist instead. River's reaction had been to press back against Riddick with a whimper as she tried to escape that touch. John's mind had been filled with grief and pain, and greed at the core. It hadn't taken Riddick long to realize what was wrong with her. She was trembling and practically trying to climb into his skin. The big convict had snarled at Johns to stop touching her or get off and fucking walk. Johns' hand had latched onto Riddick's belt then and River had sighed in relief. She'd had to fight to control the shuddering and Riddick had helped, knowing or unknowing, by thinking of Dog and how he might be doing in the ship.

Diaz had rejoined them, his dull mind twisted with satisfaction. He was pleased about something, something he'd planned, but it wasn't in his mind now. River frowned but she couldn't tell what it was. The big man acted affably enough with his brother mercs but he was just as sadistic in his way as Santana had been. It had been on him that she'd smelled Si--. No. Don't think about that yet. She forced her thoughts away from the first time she'd been forced under the big merc, away from the blood she'd smelled on him and concentrated on the here and now. River took a deep breath and forced her body to relax.

Riddick leaned forward and told her to look up. Lighting was framing the cliffs. The outcroppings looked almost like trees and she caught a flash of memory of another planet, another place with things that looked like trees and weren't.

On that planet, the ersatz trees had been made of bone. On this planet they were stone, tabletop formations on the top of a cliff. It was not a place where water would gather, not like the lowlands. She marveled for a moment at how quickly he must have moved to carry the nodes this far and come back quickly enough to hear her speak of the prophecy. He must have already prepared the site for the nodes.

He leaned forward, "Keep an eye on Johns and Diaz, I'm gonna need to do some digging. All right Kitten?"

"Shì," She agreed absently. When they dismounted from the hogs on dry ground, they all took a moment to breathe. River looked hard at Diaz. He didn't want Johns to make it back, didn't really want Riddick to make it either. He didn't care about her either way; she wasn't worth thinking about because there was no profit in her death.

River frowned and moved forward to the place Riddick indicated. He knelt and Johns handed him a shovel from the hog. River grinned appreciatively; the nodes weren't all that were buried here.

She frowned as she saw Diaz kneeling by the hogs, "What are you doing to the bikes Diaz?" She asked clearly enough that Johns looked over. 

"Just checkin' to be sure they ain't damaged," Diaz was looking closely at the back fans but stood when Johns shook his head.

"If there was a problem you'd have felt it on the ride. They'll drop right quick if there's trouble," The boss merc told him and Diaz had to move away.

She circled and kept an impartial eye on Diaz and Johns as Riddick began to dig. She gave the merc partial credit for patience. Johns waited until Riddick was half way done before asking his question. "I don't suppose you took the time to do this for him, huh?"

Riddick didn't stop his digging, "This may come as a shock to you Johns, but I didn't ghost your son." He paused slightly before he threw another pile of dirt out of the hole, "He seemed set on killin' himself."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Johns demanded. River looked at him cautiously and circled closer to the two men. Johns was swimming with grief and anger, his primary two emotions really. They were normally controlled with a ruthless will but now, hearing of his son, Johns' rein on his emotions was slipping. River took a deep breath and tried to close the merc's emotions out of her mind. She couldn't afford the distraction right now.

"Morphine." Riddick stuck the shovel in the earth and stood straight to look at Johns. "Your son liked his morphine. Liked it twice a day." River looked at Johns' face. He seemed disbelieving, denial writ across his expression. "Didn't know your son was a hype?" Riddick continued his work, speaking as he did, "Billy Boy was like most mercs. They look all stand up, do right, 'til you cut 'em open and you find somethin' missing." He glanced over at Johns, "In his case a spine."

Johns didn't believe it, "I don't have to listen to this shit. That's not the man I knew."

"Then you didn't know your son," Riddick told him flatly. His voice was simple, matter of fact and River nodded silently. She could See the truth in what Riddick was saying. See it in his mind. She could see the memories of William Johns, better than the father could. Her perspective was untainted by any personal knowledge of the man. The memories from Boss Johns and from Riddick meshed, each colored by a different relationship with the dead man. The commonality between the two was pride, a near obsession with catching Riddick, a near desperate need to prove himself to his father. It was not a pretty picture by any means.

River moved slightly so she could keep and eye on Diaz and Johns both, not liking both of them armed when Riddick had yet to arm himself. 

"He wanted to kill a kid," Riddick was forcing the words out now. She could feel him trying to speak without remembering Jack, the girl he'd considered a little sister. He tried to tell what he knew without the memories haunting him, paining him. It wasn't easy. "To save his own skin," Riddick never stopped the steady pace of his movements. "I had a problem with that."

"And you expect me to believe," Johns took a breath at the thought. "My son was going to kill a child to save his own life?"

"Morphine makes your brain soft," Riddick told him. River looked at Diaz closely but the merc was staying away from the bikes now.

"I don't fucking buy it," Johns shook his head. "I just can't believe that my son's the bad guy in this fucking...demented fairy tale of yours."

"No reason to lie now," Riddick shrugged as he reached the nodes. "For either one of us. Ask Kitten if you don't believe me. Am I lyin'?"

River shook her head, "She knows he tells the truth." She looked at Johns, "He is being kind. The merc was pretending to be a cop, tried to get Riddick to gut the child, leave a blood trail. È guàn mǎn yíng. Riddick would not. Doesn't kill children."

Diaz was coming up behind them as Riddick pulled one node out of the ground. "Johns," The convict said quietly as he placed the node from John's ship on the ground at the man's feet. Diaz stood next to Johns, ignoring River as he watched Riddick. As Riddick turned to fish the second node out, Diaz attacked. Huge fists crashed into the Johns' jaw and chest, once, twice...Johns didn't get up. 

River drew her sword. Delay, she told herself, delay enough for Riddick to get his weapon, get out of the hole. Diaz wasn't unskilled though, her kick to the back of his knee sent him off balance for half a second but he still used his wrist on the flat of her blade. He blocked her sword swing and his fist struck her solidly in the ribs. She felt her body go flying, heard herself hit the ground, her head ached. Riddick's fury was a blaze across her mind, a roar of challenge into the night and she struggled to get up again.

They were fighting, she could see them. Riddick had leapt out of the hole, up, onto Diaz's shoulders, forcing the merc down and off balance. A twist of Riddick's legs sent Diaz sprawling on his back and Riddick rolled to his feet. Before he could take advantage the merc's position Diaz was scrambling up, his gun out. River watched trying to make her legs work, her ribs throbbing as she attempted to move. Riddick was impossibly quick, twisting the merc's arms, blocking the gun, but Diaz was huge and fast. He also hadn't been knocked out and chained up less than four hours earlier. He caught Riddick's arms behind him, into a killing hold. River cursed to herself as Diaz taunted Riddick, "Thanks for starting the killing spree for me Riddick, but I'll take it from here." He picked Riddick up by his arms, holding him above his body and River shuddered. If Diaz succeeded he would break Riddick's spine. He was strong enough to do it, strong enough to make Riddick cry out, in pain or in the effort of resisting Diaz's hold.

River pushed herself up, found her sword and staggered forward as Riddick forced his arms out and Diaz's arms apart. The lower he went the better his chance of breaking the hold. As she watched in awe, Riddick used his legs to jettison his body off the chest of Diaz, hurling the merc backward and Riddick forward to the hole with the remaining node. He came up with a huge hunting spear, and Diaz came up with a gun. 

She couldn't See if Riddick would have made it in time, if he could have killed Diaz on his own. She wasn't going to take the chance. Diaz had dismissed her, as he always did. He'd put his back to her. Another constant mistake. Her blade was slender and very sharp. It slid right between the ribs, against the spine, into the heart. A twist to be certain and it was done. 

She jerked the blade out and Diaz fell, nearly on top of her. As she dodged to the side of him, the dead mercs hand squeezed on the trigger of his gun, bullets flying and hitting metal. And destroyed any chance of a fast ride back to the ships.

Riddick nearly flew forward with his spear and she scrambled back out of the way. Forward momentum would not be her friend if his balance was chancy. But the big convict pulled himself up short, kept the blade from touching her and sneered at Diaz's body, "Jamoke." He reached down and River clasped her hand in his, letting him pull her up. "Nice knife work kitten. Got him right in the heart."

River nodded, "Justice, since it was where he stabbed her. Sixteen months ago." Riddick looked at her quizzically and she forced herself to elaborate. "It was his knife...killed..." She shook her head, "He killed my brother."

"Glad you got the kill then," Riddick nodded in return; and shook his head over the ruined bikes.

They both stiffened at the ominous sound of a shotgun ratcheting, "So that blade you buried was meant for me." Johns had obviously reached his own conclusions.

"Anyone who deserved it really," Riddick had a shrug in his voice. He jerked his head toward her, silently gesturing her away from him. River scowled and deliberately put herself between his back and the boss merc, standing straight despite her aching ribs. She could hear Riddick growling at her stubbornness as she faced Johns.

"Well we got a problem Riddick, because I got two nodes here. We got one hog." He leaned down to pull the second node from the hole. "And I sure as shit am not riding bitch with you again."

River shook her head, "We do not." She held her forearm to her side, supporting her ribs as she looked over at the bikes.

"One hog," Riddick was looking at the bikes thoughtfully. "You sure about that Johns?"

River sighed as Johns strode over to the bikes and looked at the seemingly perfect turbine on the undamaged bike. "Sorry," She offered.

Riddick looked at her, "For what Kitten?"

"She did not See. Didn't guard well enough. Should have stopped him," River shrugged and began to clean off her knife, scooping up sand to rub Diaz's blood off her blade. It was painful to crouch but it had to be done. She winced as she stood again and was glad Riddick wasn't looking at her. 

"Can't See everything I guess. Plus it ain't like you were the only one here," Riddick looked at Johns who was cursing.

"He pulled the goddamn turbine pin," Johns shouted over the rain.

"You just figured that out," Riddick asked sardonically. "Diaz was gonna take the nodes for himself and ghost me. Guess he didn't count on me and Kitten here goin' back for you when he took out your bike and watched you tumble down a cliff."

River scooted past Johns and looked at the shot up bike, "Turbine pin is damaged but could possibly last at least a mile." She suggested.

Johns shook his head, "If that thing's the slightest bit off it'll throw the whole bike out of whack. Might as well try to ride an unbroken horse. We'd never stay on the thing."

River shrugged, "Then her secondary suggestion of using one of her daggers would not suffice either." She shook her head, "Officially out of ideas." She looked at Johns, "Diaz would have left you out here alone."

"So what now?" Johns was still regarding the hogs with a disgusted expression.

Riddick picked up one of the nodes and looked at Johns, "Now we switch to our ground game." He rested his spear on his shoulder, "See if that lack of spine runs in the family."

Discreetly she pressed folded her arms and kept them pressed up against her stomach. "We can make it, if we work together," She agreed with the convict. "He that out lives this day and comes safe home, shall stand on tiptoe when this day is named."

Riddick frowned as he took in how she was standing. "That scum Diaz...he hurt your ribs," His tone made it clear it wasn't a question. Even as he took a deep breath she Read that he smelt the pain on her. "On top a what Santana did to you. You ain't breathin' right. C'mere."

She didn't move towards him quickly enough but the big man took one stride and closed the distance between them. His big hands carefully tugged her arms way from her torso. One spread over her ribs and pressed slightly. River winced and bit her lip on a gasp, which he heard anyway. "Yeah you've got at least one cracked."

River shook her head. "Can't be helped," She groaned as his hand pressed on them again. "She can still fight. Fought with worse. To take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them."

"Can at least wrap 'em. You'll be able to move easier then," Riddick wasn't interested in arguments apparently. "Johns, go an' take the vest offa that jamoke." After Johns rather grudgingly did what the convict had said Riddick slipped a dagger out of River's boot and began to slice the leather up. In a moment he had a long wide strip. River blinked as he held it up to her waist and nodded before his large hands expertly wrapped her ribs and waist in leather. He'd even managed to make the two ends meet. Two slits cut in them and a leather tie from the remainder of the vest and Riddick had created a corset type of belt to hold her ribs in place while she moved. "You can bend, move all right?" Riddick asked as he slid her knife back into her boot.

River nodded and took a slow full breath before she checked all her blades and guns. A moment to make sure nothing was coming loose, her makeshift pants secure and her boots tightly laced and she nodded. "Much better, easier to breathe. She can fight." 

Riddick grinned at her, "Not that I doubted since you put on the blades." 

She could have basked in the warmth of that approval. He was extremely pleased with how many knives he could smell on her, and that she didn't limit herself to one type of weapon. He was even more pleased that she hadn't objected to his help or his hands on her. Her lack of fear at his touch and willingness to let him help gave him great satisfaction. After a moment River had an idea of how she could thank him. "His primary weapon is two handed," She observed. "Has a longer reach though," She slipped the daggers out of her boots and presented them to him, hilts first, a tiny smile curving her lips. "Might come in handy." When he nodded River drew the LeMat from her shoulder holster and regarded him curiously, "Not too small for his hands?"

"Better than the Ladysmiths," Riddick admitted. He reached for the gun and checked the ammo clip before sticking it in his belt on his hip. 

River could feel Johns wanting to object and speared the merc with a glance, "We will fail in our objective unless we all work together. That means arming the man you do not trust. He has kept his word at every turn. Including going back for you. Could have left you in the dark to die. Didn't"

"Well let's get this movable feast underway," Riddick stuck the daggers in his boots and looked at Johns. "Loaded up?"

"Yeah," Johns pulled one node onto his back while Riddick did the same with the other. River moved behind the men, forced herself to touch and check the straps, made sure everything was secure. Riddick, for all his lustful thoughts, was easier to touch than Johns. At least his mind was only on survival at the moment. 

Johns had a million thoughts in his brain, all struggling for space and neurons. Riddick helping her. Her allowing Riddick's hands on her. Her trust of the convict. Riddick having weapons. Dahl and Luna. If the nodes were even good still. Who she was? What she had done? Had Santana captured her because she was a Seer or had she been wanted? Was Riddick's tale about his son really true? Had his son been a hype? How were they going to survive? Could he trust Riddick to not turn on him when they reached the ships? 

The boss merc's thoughts ran in circles and River shut them out with an effort. Riddick's mind was easier. Focused and deliberate. She touched the leather wrapped around her waist, drew another mostly painless breath and followed the murderer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So the idea of Riddick being easier on River's head than the mercs was something I'd been playing with since the beginning of the story. He might be a lecherous hump but he's got that animal side and that makes hearing his thoughts easier. 
> 
> To my mind, something truly evil is thinking of people as things. If we don't consider that people have feelings, opinions, minds and hearts of their own and only think of them as obstacles or pawns then we've lost our humanity. And to River none of the mercs saw her as a person. She was 'the girl' or the Seer. Something to be made use of. In whatever fashion they chose.
> 
> I never totally agreed with the idea that Riddick was psycho or socio enough to see people as things to be manipulated or used. If he didn't see people as individuals, didn't understand them he'd never be able to work their nerves so well. He'd never be able to negotiate or predict their actions. He's selfish and his own survival means more to him than anyone else's but he doesn't go back on a deal. And he doesn't kill indiscriminately. 
> 
> So I wanted to show a bit here that he understands River's reactions a helluva lot better than the mercs do. And that he's willing to help her just as she has tried to help him. Baby steps towards a partnership. 
> 
> I hope you all like it. Please let me know. I love to hear your comments and thoughts on how this is going. .
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> Shì - yes
> 
> È guàn mǎn yíng - lit. strung through and filled with evil - idiom; filled with extreme evil / replete with vice / guilty of monstrous crimes
> 
> Quote sources:
> 
> He that out lives this day and comes safe home, shall stand on tiptoe when this day is named. - Henry V - William Shakespeare
> 
> To take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. - Hamlet - William Shakespeare


	13. Chapter 12:  It Requires More Courage To Suffer Than To Die

He'd figured it wouldn't be an easy walk back to the ships. The mudbugs were attracted to the noise of their feet on the ground. The rain never stopped and it seemed like the damn creatures were everywhere.

The woman had offered to scout. Apparently with her Sight she knew exactly where the ships were. But she was more than slightly hampered by lack of night vision. Riddick had pointed out that scouting wasn't helpful if she could barely see. And he wasn't going to scout and have Johns at his back. Kitten wouldn't be a problem. She wasn't the type to stab someone in the back unless they'd done something unforgivable like kill her brother and enslave her. She'd tilted her head and looked at him and then at Johns and nodded her agreement to his argument that staying together was best. So they moved as a group, she and Riddick guiding Johns.

If he hadn't been so busy staying alive he might have appreciated just how effective the girl was in combat. There wasn't a wasted movement. Every time she swung her blades, she hit the creatures. She hadn't even had to draw her guns yet. She fought similarly to him, with economy of motion, and every blow to kill.

The came to a wide area, a clearing almost, and fought off the beasts there, ending up back to back as more replaced them. A moment to breathe and the girl leapt forward, her sword and axe sliced through a mudbug's spine. Riddick took the next. Every creature took at least three hits to bring it down completely, while Johns was aiming his big gauge at the center mass. It was effective, but he'd already had to reload more than once.

Sure enough, when they'd killed the bugs that had surrounded them Johns called it, "Reload." He'd emptied his pistol into one of the creatures and snapped another clip in before slotting shells into the shotgun. 

Riddick took on a bug that was creeping up on Johns while Kitten engaged one across from the merc. The thing leapt off a rock and impaled itself on his spear. Turning, he barely kept from cutting Johns with the blade as he wrenched it free. "Watch your head," He advised darkly.

Kitten was laughing as she cut another one down, "Good advice." 

"Okay go," Johns called out, and they began again.

One of the really big fuckers was coming at him. Riddick brought the spear up to hit it and heard Johns emptying a clip into another one behind him. He felt the spear break as he used it to force the mudbug away and a tail tip the size of his fist slammed into his side. He staggered; and wrenched the broken spear out of the creature, trying to bring it up to defend himself.

The woman, Kitten, was there. Her face was a mask of rage as her blades whirled around him, "He is not allowed to die," She snarled at him as he staggered. "You hear me Furyan? Not to die. Stand up! Zhì zhī sǐ dì' ér hòu shēng!"

He could hear the fear in her voice, the anger, and he did his best to obey. As he turned to see how Johns was doing Riddick felt himself going to his knees. He put a hand on the fang, or whatever it was, embedded in his side and started to pull it out. After looking down he decided against it and put the thing back in.

Kitten had crouched at his side, her gun aimed, and shot two of the creatures down. Johns took a knee on his other side and pulled a grenade from his belt before he gave it a hard throw behind them. Five seconds later, it went off and the girl covered his head while Johns bent over his torso. 

He could smell the blood, the mud creatures and his own, dark and rich. Felt Johns put one hand behind his back, and the other under his knee. Riddick struggled to get up and felt himself being pushed over. The fang pressed deeper even as the node taken from his back. Another wave of searing pain crashed over him. He couldn't even curse the son of a bitch.

"All right girl, you can stay with him or you can come with me. Up to you," Johns told the girl crisply.

"She chooses the convict," Kitten was practically spitting her words. He could smell the rage on her. "He has more honor than any merc she ever met. Would have freed her. The mercs let her stay in chains. Cào nǐ zǔ zōng shí bā dài! Luò jǐng xià shí! Liu kou shui de biao zi he hou zi de ben er zi!"

"Should go with him," Riddick told her flatly. "It's a sucker's bet, staying with me." He hadn't understood half of the torrent of Chinese but it was pretty obvious she was cursing Johns to hell and back.

She rolled her eyes as Johns took her at her word and left them both. "Give me today, for once, the worst throw of your dice, destiny. Today I transmute everything into gold."

Riddick cursed and grabbed the broken spear. Johns' grenade had pushed the creatures back, and left rocks glowing with heat in its wake. He could see them out of the corner of his eye. "Gotta get this cauterized." When she tried to pull his arm over her shoulders, Riddick shook his head, "You're really gonna stay, just watch my back. I'll crawl if I gotta. But if one of them bugs comes up on me I'm done."

She nodded and when he began to crawl towards the rocks still glowing with heat she moved with him. Riddick covered his palm with damp earth before he grabbed one of the glowing rocks. It was hot as hell through the mud and he quickly pulled the fang from his side before he pressed the bright heated rock to his wound. He stiffened in shock at the pain, ground his teeth against it and still shouted at the agony of seared bloody flesh. He forced himself to wait until he felt the bleeding stop before letting the rock fall from his palm.

There was a different scent in the air besides his scorched flesh and burnt blood. Tears. She was standing at his side, guarding his back, her face wet with rain and sorrow. "All right," He rasped the words out. "I figure we make for high ground."

The slender woman nodded and when he stood chanced a look at him, "They are coming. Feel them, endless hunger nearing us." Her head jerked towards the fields in front of her and Riddick took as deep a breath as he dared.

"Let's get goin' then," He began to move, more slowly than her for once and she measured her pace to his. When he reached for one of the knives she'd given him, she shook her head.

"Take this," She handed him the axe she'd been using. "Just please don't lose it. Very important to her."

"You're gonna need it," Riddick argued as they moved.

"We're going to need it," Kitten corrected him as the mudbugs converged on them at the base of the jagged cliff that stabbed the sky. She'd wrapped both hands around her sword and slashed downwards with it as a creature came at her. 

They were climbing as fast as they could, not daring to put their backs to the creatures for long. One of them stabbed at the girl and she dodged the stinger but nearly went off the edge of the cliff in the process. Riddick grabbed for her arm and caught her. He pulled her body back while her blade hacked at another mudbug.

Their best hope was to outlast the rain, to hold their ground on the cliff top and wait. Riddick was calculating their chances even as he nearly stumbled downwards. The girl scowled fiercely at the creatures and moved in front of him when his foot slipped again. "Brace yourself against my back. Get a good hold and you can help pull me up," She shouted over the noise of the rain and the screeching of the mudbugs.

"Jiàn guǐ," Riddick frowned and did as she'd suggested. It was easier going and she seemed to know when he'd gotten his balance, reaching back with her hand just in time to grasp his forearm. He hauled her up beside him and would have taken a minute to consider how light she was if there'd been time to think on anything besides the next foothold, the next step. Survival. That's what it came down to. 

And then they were at the edge of the cliff. The jagged angular peak jutted through the air behind them. Kitten shook her head, "Go no further. Ground isn't safe. Don't think he wishes another broken leg with these things around."

"No," Riddick agreed with a grimace that was the best he could manage for a smile of amusement. It had been a long time since he'd had been hurt like this. Even the fall with half a cliff on top of him hadn't messed him up this bad. "So I guess now we wait for the rain to stop." He looked at the clouds. "I don't think our chances are that great. If we're being honest."

"Never tell me the odds," Kitten snapped at him and he almost laughed, recognizing the line from an ancient movie on the cortex. "If the gap at Thermopylae worked for the Spartans against the Persians then this can work for us. We just hold this ground."

"Yeah," Riddick had no idea what she was talking about but she seemed set on it. 

They'd managed to hold off all comers. And by all comers, he meant every mudbug that had climbed up the damn cliff. There was a roaring in his ears and he really wasn't sure how much longer Kitten could keep this up. She wasn't wounded, not like him; but she hadn't been in peak condition when they'd started this little jaunt and he could smell exhaustion on her. He knew all the running and climbing had to be hell on her ribs. Not to mention the beating she'd taken from Santana before the rain had even reached them.

"How are your ears?" She was asking him.

"Can't hear a damn thing over the rain and that thunder," Riddick shouted back. "Why?"

"She hears something," She was cutting down another bug as she spoke and almost slipped down the cliff. Riddick grabbed her with his good arm and pulled her back. A huge bug leapt up at them and nearly got the girl before he yanked her slender body backwards. He raised the axe and caught it in the things jaws just before fire began to rain down on the cliff. A kick of his foot and a slash of her sword and the bug was tumbling backwards. Kitten threw herself over his body, hiding his eyes from the burning light and sheltering her vulnerable face from the fire that suddenly surrounded them.

Explosive rounds, Riddick realized. White phosphorus rounds that would burn even in the rain. "Willie P," Kitten shouted over the noise. "Guaranteed to do the job." He wrapped his arm around her waist and clutched her tighter. The fires burned even brighter as more rounds hit the rocky cliff around their bodies. Riddick cursed and turned his body so she was beneath him and protected from the rounds. The leather he wore was better proof against the heat than her tattered rain soaked clothing. Her breathless thanks were nearly drowned out by the sound of a ship overhead.

"I'll be damned," Riddick looked up. Dahl was descending on a cable.

"Probably," Kitten quipped. "Wounded are evac'd first. Give me the axe. The reach will help."

"Girls go first," Riddick argued.

"She is not a girl," Her eyes flashed at him dangerously. "Don't make me knock you out."

Dahl landed near them and Kitten pointed at Riddick before the merc could even ask, "Has a hole in his side. Take him up."

Dahl, to her credit, didn't argue though Riddick gave it a damn good try. Right up until Dahl attached the harness and wrapped her legs around his waist. Riddick handed Kitten her axe and looked at her, "You had better be right behind me." It was more of a threat than anything else and she just grinned at him.

Riddick looked at Dahl as she gave the ship a thumbs up and the cable began to retract. "So let me ask you somethin', sweet like," She said as smiled at him.

Riddick couldn't help laughing, "Be a helluva lotta fun, but I don't think either of us would like an audience." He slid his hands up her thighs and cupped her curvy ass. Damn she felt good. Even with a hole in his side, he could appreciate her body. Having a woman wrapped around him was never a bad thing.

"What if I killed all of 'em first," Dahl retorted with a grin.

"Nah," Riddick shook his head as they got pulled away from the trap door and he was unharnessed. "Gotta go get Kitten."

"Yeah, on that." Dahl nodded as Luna sat Riddick down in one of the chairs lining the aisle before she dropped back down on the cable. 

It was strangely quiet in the ship and Riddick took deep breaths of clean air while Luna took a look at his side. He could hear Dahl talking to the girl as they were hoisted up the ship, "So I guess when I said you'd shoot your foot off if I gave you a gun I wasn't exactly right?"

Kitten's laugh had hidden edges, "She is not helpless. Never was. Mercs who chose to forget it got what they deserved." They'd reached the opening to the hull and Kitten's humor was showing. "She will not ask you anything 'sweet like'," She warned Dahl as they were pulled into the ship.

That got a bark of laughter from Johns and Riddick and a blushing chuckle from Luna while Dahl just gave a husky laugh of appreciation. "Well you are kinda hot Kitten," The female merc looked at her appreciatively and seemed startled when the smaller woman shuddered and began to disentangle herself from the female merc. Her movements were frantic and almost manic with desperation.

Riddick growled in his throat as he caught the scent of her fear, "She was jokin' Kitten." He hoped Dahl had been joking, in poor taste though it might have been. He looked at Dahl. "Right," He asked with a snarl and pushed past Luna as the girl continued to back away, her warrior's skill drowned under the waves of terror.

Kitten looked from him to the three mercs and then at the trap door that was closing and he could almost hear her brain wondering if she could throw herself out and survive to make the other ship alone. "You don't gotta do that," Riddick put himself in front of the trapdoor and heard Luna close it behind him. "Look at me. Kitten, am I gonna hurt you?" He stood still and waited for her to breathe.

Finally, she managed to stop gasping, that sticky scent of terror fading slightly and dark eyes looked up into his. "The paragon of animals. Sacrosanct. Untouchable. Unthinkable when she is so damaged. In moving, how express and admirable. Beautiful, but not for touching. To be looked on and admired. Appreciated. How noble in reason. Nothing against her will. Not ever again. Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee, O could our mourning ease thy misery. Anathema to him," She whispered and heard Luna curse for the second time that day.

Her words didn't make complete sense to him, but she seemed reassured and that sticky scent of terror was fading. At the moment that was all that mattered. Well, that and she wasn't trying to throw herself out of the ship. Riddick was vividly conscious of Johns' curiosity behind him, "Yeah, you got that right Kitten." He offered in ignorant reassurance before he turned and looked at Johns. "I'm assuming that other node worked just fine?"

"Yeah, plugged 'em both in, no problems," Johns nodded. "You gonna fly with him girl?"

She nodded and looked at Riddick, "If that is acceptable to the Riddick, yes." She looked at Johns, "She would not die in that man's company who fears his fellowship to die with her."

"Well I don't know what that means but we're headed back to the other ship now," Johns nodded as he expertly piloted his ship.

Riddick heard Luna gasp audibly behind him, "She can't go with him. It's not--"

"What?" Riddick snarled as he turned, the slender woman behind him still. "It ain't safe? Ain't right? I wasn't the one standin' by when she was beaten an' raped kid." He would have stood between her and the mercs but she slipped out from behind him and stood at his side. Her chin lifted stubbornly and she folded her arms. Her hands were dangerously close to the hilts of her knives as she kept her eyes on Luna.

"You're a murderer, she's a little girl," Luna objected. "She should stay with us. At least our work is legal. She'd be safe."

"'Til when," Riddick snarled at him. Like he couldn't keep her safe if she needed it. Like she needed him at all. Woman had more weapons than he did and, more importantly, could use them and well. "'Til she wants to leave an' then you'll chain her up again? It's her choice. Always been her choice. Said that Kitten'd go where she wanted."

"Not a little girl," The girl in question's voice was irritated and glared impartially at all three mercs. "She sails with the Riddick if he will have her. Not helpless. Doesn't need a protector or guards. Doesn't want chains of any kind. Would rather stay on planet and die choking on her own blood than be chained again."

"So shut it kid," Riddick snarled. He was partially gratified that Dahl and Johns hadn't put their two cents into the argument. Those two had some sense at least. He wondered what Kitten had meant about choking on her own blood but set the question aside. She'd mentioned before that she knew how to kill herself even if none of the mercs had realized. 

She slanted a glance at him and shrugged, "A method of suicide taken by the desperate, sever the artery in the tongue, deliberately breathe in the blood. Drown in blood." Her voice was barely a whisper as the little woman explained it to him.

Riddick was impressed in spite of himself. That sort of thing took guts to even consider. "Ain't gonna leave you here," He told her quietly. "So you don't gotta do that. Figure I'll need to check over the ship, less you know any problems it's got."

"Vargas made certain the ship runs well. No major problems. But we will need to take on water," Kitten was murmuring. "Check food supplies. A box of sand for Dog. He still sleeps. Brain is fuzzy from the tranq." She was frowning hard, obviously thinking, and he wished he could hear her brain working. The scent coming off of her was interesting. Spicy as she considered their options. "Depending on available fuel..." She looked up at him and nodded

"Got someplace in mind?" Riddick asked her and took her hand, gently guiding her to a chair several seats away from Luna and Dahl and crouched in front of her to look her in the eye.

"She does," Kitten slanted a glance at the mercs. "She will apprise him of it...later." She looked at him curiously. "He will have a quarter of an hour free time while she finds sand and a box for Dog. If he wishes." Her eyes flicked over to Dahl and he chuckled.

"That's all right. I'll handle the water if you deal with the box and the sand," He couldn't help laughing to himself as he took a seat beside her. Her hand was cold in his and he looked at her. Cold and wet, her clothing didn't conceal much. They'd have to find something else for her to wear, and for him too. Something not covered in blood. More things to get done once they got their ship in the air.

Another barrage of white phosphorus and the area around the other ship was cleared enough for them to load up water and any supplies they could salvage from the station. Kitten had found a long shallow crate and hauled it into the merc ship. He'd dragged big plastic tankers of water on board. Water was part of the reason most mercs traveled with cryo. Less weight to waste fuel. But he wouldn't use cryo and he wasn't risking it on Dog. Kitten would be all right but it was always good to take on water whenever you could. So he erred on the side of caution and brought on as much as he could fit. He was looking around for another set of goggles since his good ones had been lost when he'd gone down with the fang in his side. They were probably stuck in the mud somewhere. He knew he'd seen goggles for welding work in the station but damned if he could find them now. He gave it up and hauled some more water into the ship.

By the time he was done, Kitten had filled the box with sand and the Willie P had stopped glowing, "Time to go." He shouted to the girl and she nodded before she grabbed a few odds and ends from the station. It looked like bowls and soap along with an armload of MREs. Her pace quickened as she climbed aboard and put the things into a storage locker before waiting for him with her guns drawn at the mouth of the ship. Riddick set the last tank of water down and nodded to Johns before he closed the ship up. "All right, let's leave nothin' but dust."

She giggled and nodded, taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair. She'd been right. Dog was still sleeping. The tranq was probably still in his system. When he took put his hands on the controls she stopped him and held out a set of welder's goggles. He grinned as he took them. He should have figured. She did have a way of knowing things.

They weren't far off the ground, coming through the pearly clouds above the storm when Johns caught up with them and pivoted so the two ships were facing each other. The comm crackled and Johns' voice reached their ears. "Lotta good men died here Riddick. Not sure how I'm supposed to overlook that, next time."

"Yeah...things woulda been different if they weren't tryin' to put my head in a box," Riddick drawled and looked at Kitten sitting in her wet clothes next to him. "Though honestly, seein' how they were treating her? Not sure I wouldn't have done the same thing anyway."

"So where to now Riddick?" Johns asked as Luna came up to peer out the window from behind the boss. Johns changed his mind as quickly as he'd asked the question, "You know what, fuck that. Don't tell me. I don't wanna know."

"I'll tell you this Johns, sooner or later, we all have to head home," Riddick told the merc. "Tell Dahl to keep it warm for me. And Johns... you keep a strong spine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So one more chapter and then a little epilogue...and River and Riddick will actually get a chance to talk to each other. You know, without people listening or their lives being in mortal danger. Wonder how they'll do.
> 
> Think they'll manage okay or are they going to have problems straight off? 
> 
> Hope you all liked this. I had it written and then thought that Luna would probably speak up against River going with Riddick. I don't know that he's thinking too clearly but he's still fixated on Riddick being a murderer.
> 
> A little word about Riddick's use of Chinese. I figured he's been around enough to have picked up a few phrases but nothing like River and her fluency. So he usually swears in Chinese when he's referring to God, Hell or something Holy. But he obviously uses the word fuck a lot and likes it in English so I kept his dialogue like that. River on the other hand... Yeah. She'll curse you out in the most creative ways possible, using mostly Chinese because it comes naturally to her. I think in time that'll amuse the heck out of Riddick.
> 
> I'm curious to know what you all think of how I handled the movie. And as always, any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> Zhì zhī sǐ dì' ér hòu shēng - place somebody on a field of death and he will fight to live - common saying based on Sunzi's "The Art of War"; to fight desperately when confronting mortal danger / fig. to find a way out of an impasse
> 
> Cào nǐ zǔ zōng shí bā dài - fuck your ancestors to the eighteenth generation
> 
> Luò jǐng xià shí - to throw stones at somebody who fell down a well - idiom; to hit a person who is down
> 
> Jiàn guǐ - To hell with it
> 
> Script Chinese Translations:
> 
> Liu kou shui de biao zi he hou zi de ben er zi - Stupid son of a drooling whore and monkey
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> Give me today, for once, the worst throw of your dice, destiny. Today I transmute everything into gold. - Friedrich Nietzsche
> 
> Never tell me the odds - Star Wars - George Lucas
> 
> The paragon of animals. - Hamlet - William Shakespeare
> 
> In moving, how express and admirable. - Hamlet - William Shakespeare
> 
> How noble in reason. - Hamlet - William Shakespeare
> 
> Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee, O could our mourning ease thy misery. - Titus Andronicus - William Shakespeare
> 
> She would not die in that man's company who fears his fellowship to die with her. (Paraphrased) - Henry V - William Shakespeare


	14. Chapter 13:  Though One May Be Overpowered, Two Can Defend Themselves.  A Cord Of Three Strands Is Not Quickly Broken

They were in the Black again, the silence of space and stars all around them. River sighed in relief. The only minds were Riddick’s, the dog’s and her own. Cautiously she took a seat near Riddick, studying the console and mentally nodded as his movements confirmed her own theories on how to pilot the ship.

She looked at the big man out of the corner of her eye and studied him with as much care as she had the console. He'd taken off his shirt aboard Johns' ship and hadn't bothered to put another on afterwards. She doubted he had another shirt. River turned her eyes back to the Black out the window and recreated Riddick in her mind. Broad shouldered and impeccably muscled without an ounce of fat on him. A handprint was clearly defined on his chest, the hand of a woman from the shape of it. Other marks marred his flesh, old wounds long since healed. He was a beautiful man despite the scars. And to her, he was beautiful because of them. He'd known suffering and pain, just as she had. Maybe that was part of why she felt safe with him.

His voice almost startled her. “So what’s your name? Can’t keep calling you girl. An' Kitten ain't really an actual name.” She looked at him and met silver eyes as they studied her curiously. The mercs hadn't thought him intelligent. They'd thought he had an animal cunning and a penchant for survival but no real intellect. But those eyes... they told her much more than the mercs had seen. From the first she'd been able to Read and See just how brilliant Riddick was. She had to give him an answer. And nothing but the truth would serve. He deserved nothing less. And she was so tired of lies.

River nodded and drew her feet up, her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs to regard him. How to explain her difficulties to him? How to give him the truth without giving her name? “What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet. She has been so many different things. Her name isn’t safe to use. She was mèi mei, daughter, and Loony. Crazy girl. Dancer. Genius. Subject. Little one. Moonbrain. And then she wasn’t. She became…something else. A protector. Killer. Reader. The captain’s Lil Albatross. When she was taken, she became the bounty, and then the girl. She doesn’t know what she should be called anymore. Is her past gone? Or does she carry it with her?”

“So pick a name and make it yours.” Riddick’s expression wasn’t unsympathetic but he made it seem like a matter of practicality.

River frowned slightly, “She saw and heard everything. Too much. And then she could narrow the ocean to a river. Then a stream. And then a brook. Down to the merest trickle. Or open it up and let everything flood through her again. Sweep her mind away.” She looked at him and one of his memories caught her. She voiced it before she caught herself. The echo of his pain seemed to fill her and her voice ached over the words, “Killed everything I know.”

His snarl of anger was pure animal, the reminder that old wounds might be scarred over but she had no right to poke at them. Words were unneeded, given that vocalization, and River bowed her head in apology.

“His mind is very strong. She will endeavor to not…speak what she hears,” River offered in conciliation. His bare nod was acceptance enough and she sighed in relief. “She could be Lily. Or Al. Or Tross.”

“Lily Albatross?” Riddick smirked as he pronounced the name. “Could make it Lillian, call you Lil for short. Then you really could be Lil Albatross.”

River smiled slightly in return. “Is it a good name,” She wondered hopefully. “Or too memorable? No experience in choosing an alias.”

“Long as it ain’t like your old one, don’t see that it matters. I'll probably still call you Kitten, if that's all right.” Riddick shrugged at her. “Ain’t ever got to choose my name. Richard B. Riddick just seems to stick to me.”

“Does he prefer another,” River wondered curiously, not taking her eyes off his face.

“Nah,” He shrugged again, a wealth of expression in the one gesture. “What’s that you said back on the rock? ‘I cannot hide what I am’?”

She nodded and a little smirk curved her own lips, “It must not be denied that I am a plain dealing villain.” His expression was pleased and she almost laughed, “Prince Jon, of Much Ado About Nothing. Lives to cause trouble. Loves to make mischief.”

“Dì yù, maybe I could be Jon Richards then,” He chuckled evilly. “Still be a sorta warning wouldn’t it.”

The grin that spread her lips was wicked, just as mischievous as his, “Does that make the dog Riddick?” 

The bark of laughter that burst from his lips was pleasurably loud in her ears and he grinned, “It just might.” He turned to look at the sleeping animal, before he glanced back at her. “Reminds me though. Better get you into cryo before we get much further.”

River shook her head, “Can’t.”

“Can’t,” He repeated. “I’m not going to sell you while you’re asleep.” His handsome face hardened in fury at the thought.

River searched her mind for a way to explain, a way to tell him that cryo was the worst thing he could do to her. Finally, she found it, a memory, tangled with others and stared at him, “They say the brain shuts down in cryo sleep. All but the primitive side, the animal side. No wonder I’m still awake.”

He stared at her for a long minute and she could hear his brain formulating and discarding theories and ignoring the fact that she’d pulled his own memory and words out to make her own point. Finally, he just asked, “You’re awake in cyro?”

“Holds the body, but even that is not…complete,” River said slowly. “But the mind is awake, active, trapped with drugs, can’t move, can’t scream, barely feel the heartbeat. Maddening. Able to feel, unable to move. My mind knows that I should be breathing but I don't. Paralyzed, eyes closed, kept in the dark with no way out. All the screams kept in my head. Hearing all the dreams, all their minds," She shuddered and bit back the moan of pain at the memory. "I See and Hear everything. Can't do anything to control what I hear. The ocean floods through me. I can't. I can't. All I can do is scream for no one to hear." 

He was more than somewhat taken aback by her words but she could Read his certainty that she was telling the truth. She had her ability to Read people and Riddick had scents and body language. Those things gave him a very similar ability to tell the truth from lies. The big convict frowned and one hand rubbed at his bare shoulder absently. “Guess that shoots down that idea,” He looked back at the relatively small ship, and then at her. “Need to do an inventory of supplies then. And figure out a destination. And how long we want to be stuck with each other.”

River nodded slowly. She didn’t quite trust him to not leave her on her own. It wouldn’t be a totally bad thing but at the same time she had invested a lot of energy in making sure they both got off that rock. She could have simply abandoned him; left with Johns and taken off with Santana’s ship. 

“Riddick is unwilling to take on a partner,” She looked at him thoughtfully. “If he will let her use the cortex she will lay the foundations of the new identity and leave when a suitable planet is found.”

“Never said you had to leave,” He objected in a mild tone. “Just can’t think a woman who’s been at the mercy of scum like those mercs would want to live in close quarters with an animal like me.”

She studied him thoughtfully. He was speaking the truth, as far as it went. His reluctance to trust or to be responsible for anyone besides himself was deep rooted. And it had been reinforced by the death of a girl. The pain of that loss still echoed through him when he thought of her. He’d cared for her but she’d mistaken his protection for indifference and had died at the Necromonger's hands as a result. His mind had touched on the girl, Kyra, whenever he'd seen River beaten or in chains back on the planet. 

River bit back a half smile. It was funny; Riddick had helped her in part because he despised mercs and bullies. But he'd also happily killed the men who'd raped her because of the girl he'd lost. And he'd taken a certain pleasure in partnering with her against the mercs. But he had no intention of traveling with her long term. That set off alarms in his head, made the big man uneasy and worried. He didn't want to like her, the woman he'd named Kitten, and then lose her. He didn't want to open himself to that pain again.

She bit back the words she’d used earlier, very conscious of how his pain had flared into anger. “She does not believe he is interested in rape. Animals usually aren’t,” River said finally. “She chose to fly with him, rather than the mercs. Chose him for the potential partnership. She knows his mind. Knows what he finds anathema. He might lust for her but he will not take what she is unwilling to give.” She shrugged, “Cannot force his choice. But she could have gone back with the mercs or taken Santana’s ship. Left Riddick to be taken with Johns or to die. Didn’t. Chose him.”

She rose from the chair and began to walk back towards the dog who lifted his head and made an annoyed sound in his throat as she passed him. Apparently, Dog was still cranky from the tranq and didn't want to wake up just yet. It was a typical merc ship, a hold with nets and cuffs for storing bodies in cryo. Rows of seats on each side of the aisle for crew cryo and two bunks for the ship’s pilot set in the wall across from a tiny galley. The bedding on the bunks reeked and she shook her head. They’d have to somehow launder the bedding before she’d lie on it. For all she knew it had fleas.

She began to dig through the galley and poked into all the storage containers there were, finding the prize of clean bedding still in its plastic.

8888

He watched the girl, woman, he corrected himself, just as much as the instruments. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she’d as much as told him she could pilot. Kitten had actually chosen to partner up with a wanted murderer rather than the upstanding merc crew Johns ran. He wondered what that said about her. Was she wanted too? Or was she the type to distrust all mercs because of what Santana’s scum had done to her? If she'd asked he could have told her that Johns would most likely have let her leave if she wanted. He hadn't seemed the type to keep anyone but bounties against their will. 

Riddick frowned to himself. He was still trying to figure out why he'd taken her part when Luna had objected to Kitten's plan to fly with him, a convict. Sure it had rubbed him the wrong way that the bible thumping merc hadn't done anything to stop the abuse little woman had endured. And yeah he liked that she was a damn good fighter. It'd be interesting to see her in action when she was up to full strength. But he didn't usually take up for anyone without a better reason than that. 

He ran a hand over his scalp and absently noted that he'd need to shave in the next day. Any longer and the scruff would make him crazy. When they'd gotten onto Johns' ship he'd still been half surprised Kitten had sent him up first. In his experience it was every man for himself regardless of who was wounded, weaker or smaller. She'd chosen to stay with him, to throw in her lot with him. It could have gotten her killed. She'd proven herself capable, fought at his side. Hell, she'd tried to cover his face when Johns had bombarded the mountain with the white phosphorous rounds.

Maybe it had been the contrast between that strong capable woman and the terrified girl scrambling away from Dahl that had done it. She'd woken his slumbering sense of decency or fair play or something. He'd hate to think it was a conscience. But she'd gone from joking to being scared out of her mind, eying the trapdoor like it was her only way out of hell. It was wrong. It made him feel...Riddick nearly cursed aloud as he thought about it. It pissed him off is what it did.

Nobody deserved to feel like that. Hell, until he'd been set loose no one even bothered to talk about setting Kitten free. None of the mercs had even considered her as a potential ally from what he'd seen. They'd been happy to question her but none of them treated her like a person. They'd treated her like they treated him. A thing. That didn't set right with him. He didn't like it when they did it to him and he'd actually done a few things to deserve the title of Murderer or Animal. Far as he could see, Kitten hadn't done a damn thing.

So he'd backed her play. He'd said all along she was gonna go where she wanted. Far as he knew that was something women and cats had in common anyway. Speaking up to support her decision wasn't much in the way of thanks for her help. But she was...well Kitten was different. Couldn't be sure how yet but she was.

There was something about her; the animal side was interested, almost chuffing its curiosity, wondering about her. She had a scent to her, wonderful, but unique; he was certain it was nothing his nose had come across before. She smelled like woman, beautiful, a little sweet and some spicy. And damn could she move. When she’d gotten those blades in her hand and held the sword between Johns’ legs he’d felt pure physical awareness prickle through his body. She walked like a dancer once her muscles loosened up, every movement graceful. And she fought like some sort of manic ballerina assassin. No wasted motion, and grace in every step; death in her hands. Gorram beautiful to watch even as he’d been fighting for his own life.

What had been strangely sweet was her insistence that Dog stay in the ship, in Santana’s ship. She’d known if he'd come with them, he would die which meant she’d flat out lied to the mercs about why she wanted to save him. And she’d crooned sweet little nonsense words to Dog even as she’d shut him into the ship. Funny stuff that sounded like nursery rhymes, bits of Chinese and humming, but it had soothed Dog.

What had been really amusing at that point was the reaction of the various mercs. Peach Fuzz's eyes had nearly bugged out. And the Jamoke had looked really pissed off when she’d come out of their ship all armored up and looking better than sin. It had really gotten him wondering about how much the big merc knew regarding the little woman. Of course Johns had the best reaction. Riddick couldn’t help grinning as he recalled how that conversation had gone. The woman had a set all right.

“She does not have a ‘set’ Riddick,” That elegant voice corrected him from the depths of the ship behind him. “You have a set. I have a spine. Unless you refer to my ovaries.”

“Yeah speakin’ of ovaries,” Riddick set the autopilot for the next hour and turned to look at her. “How long before you’re going to need girl...stuff?” He looked at some of the storage lockers, “Or were they human enough to make sure you had them?”

She was tearing something open, plastic stretching and ripping and then he caught the scent of fresh fabric. Finally, she looked at him with a dark gaze almost unreadable, "She will not need 'girl stuff' for another three years. Approximately." 

He frowned. That took some serious medical pull, and the only things that worked on a woman for longer than six months at a time were implants that produced hormones but prevented ovulation. It took a surgeon to insert the device. "How'd you get hold of one of those implants," Riddick finally asked the question he couldn't get out of his head, "You couldn't have stuck it in yourself."

Her face went still and quiet and she shook her head, "A gift. Along with inoculations against disease. Because she was a woman finally. So if she wished to..." She shook her head again and turned away and Riddick looked at her thoughtfully. She smelled of love and grief, and the worst kind of pain. So they both had sore spots. He wondered who'd given her the implant, who'd provided her with the very expensive shots, and how she'd gone from that to the life he'd found her in.

He had his back turned and was mentally speculating as to her origins. Her voice and looks made it easy to see she'd been high society once, when she came storming up behind him. "She will tell him if it will stop Riddick from questioning and wondering and driving her mad!" Her voice was a near manic growling shriek and he spun in his chair.

"Hey don't get pissy with me because I wonder about you and your history. You've been pickin' my brain and pokin' at me since you got on the planet," He reminded her. "Pulling my own words out to make your point. Proddin' at memories you got no business seein'." Riddick scowled slightly as he remembered everything he'd heard her say on Not Furya. At least she'd had the sense or sensitivity or whatever to not mention Kyra to the mercs. Mercs didn't have any right to Kyra.

"She cannot help what she Hears, or Reads or Sees," River growled back at him. "He was born the way he is. She was...born different and then changed, forcibly." She sat and drew her legs up again, shielding her body, almost hiding from him. Riddick scowled, he was really starting to hate it when she sat like that, like she was making herself a smaller target. Her eyebrow went up and she lifted on shoulder at him, an indifferent acknowledgment, before she continued. "Antecedents have been lost...parents deliberately obscured ancestry. Wealth and power buys as much mystery as one desires." 

"Thought core folk were real big on lineage," Riddick murmured the question and the dog tilted its head, made an inquiring whine in its throat. It was still lying down, tired from the tranq, but following their movements with its eyes.

She nodded and her lips quirked wryly, "Descendents from the Founders, on the wrong side of the blanket. Much is forgiven for such...impressive ancestors, but they are not to be displayed." She rolled her eyes at such stupidity and Riddick couldn't help chuckling slightly. "But she was born...different. More attuned to what was unsaid, things that could not be known by normal means...she knew. Heard. Powerful instincts combined with genius level intelligence quotient."

"Guess that could rub some folks the wrong way," Riddick commented and she nodded slowly.

"Older brother was...loving. Kind. Indulged her need for play, to imagine. Didn't mind her correcting his spelling and grammar though she was much younger," She smiled fondly and then sighed. "To the parents she was too...everything. She wasn't what they wanted. There was talk of arranging a marriage for her eighteen birthday."

"How old were you when that crap started," Riddick asked with a sneer at her absent parents.

"She was fourteen," Kitten shrugged off that issue. "Found a school though, government sponsored, very advanced, most interesting programs... She wanted to learn." She took a deep breath and looked straight at him, "Stayed until she was past seventeen, until her brother could break her out. Stayed. No choice. Endured. Conditioning, behavioral modification, triggers, and surgeries. Stripped her amygdale, but she wasn't crazy until she Heard the secrets of the Parliament. Went mad when she Saw Miranda in their minds. Read what they'd done. Saw they'd Made the Reavers. Instincts always ruled her, always knew things. Never understood why, or cared. It just was." 

"That where you learned to fight like that?" Riddick asked quietly. Inside he was seething, wishing he had her parents or the bastards who'd tortured her within arms reach. She'd been Jack's age when her hell had begun. Jack had been running from hers when he'd met the kid. This girl wasn't Jack, but she had a core of steel so strong he was surprised he couldn't smell it on her.

"All our subjects are conditioned for combat, but... she's a creature of extraordinary grace," The slender woman said softly. Her voice had a different inflection, cold and clinical, as if she wasn't using her own words. "Brother broke her out, 'She always did love to dance'." Went in and fetched her out, took care of her. Gave up everything to save her."

Riddick smiled grimly. The change in her voice when she talked about dancing, he'd bet good money that had been something her brother had said. At least one member of her family was worth a damn, "How long did it take you to recover?" He asked the question mostly because, from what he'd seen, breaking any sort of conditioning wasn't easy.

"Eight months and the Miranda Wave," She was still looking at him, her expression thoughtful. "Broke the will of an Operative, showed him there is no such thing as a better world. Lost our pilot, lost many friends. Gained her sanity again as the wound was lanced of poison. Found ways to break the triggers, to destroy the conditioning. Took six months before she was cleansed of all their poison. Her mind was her own again. It was mine for more than two years before the Corporation decided they wanted me back. Put a price on my head. Knew I'd bring death to my ship if I stayed."

"So you left? And they caught you but not your crew," Riddick was guessing now, hoping. Because if the mercs had caught up to her when she'd still been aboard her ship, when she'd been trying to keep the people she'd been protecting safe...he really didn't like where that line of thought was headed. Woman had started to reek of sorrow and pain, of tears held back by sheer will. 

"Left. Took the gifts she was given, weapons, contraception, inoculations. Knew they were coming. Tried to tell her crew, her Captain that she had to leave," River shook her head. "Snuck out. But my brother...he...followed me."

Riddick listened with a growing sense of dread as tears began to stream down her face. He couldn't wish his words or thoughts back; he needed to know how bad it was so he could guard against it. She had to sleep sometime and if he was going to take this partnership idea seriously then they couldn't have these types of secrets. Her name...yeah he understood if she didn't use it with him. She couldn't know for sure how well he could keep a secret. The details of her history...yeah, same goes. He was still sorry to bring up the memories. He knew first hand how painful that could be.

"They caught her in the marketplace, dragged her into an alley. Her brother followed," Her voice had been steady before, affectionate as she spoke of her brother and her crew; bewildered when she talked about her parents. Now her expressive voice had gone wooden, stiff with pain and determination to not feel it. "She felt the needles slam into her neck. Last thing she saw...was Diaz. His knife, cutting my brother deep, near the femoral. If he didn't get help, he would bleed out in the alley. No one would ever know how or where she had gone."

"Your old crew likely to look for you," Riddick asked quietly. He didn't insult her with the false hope that perhaps her brother was alive. There weren't many ways a body could survive a cut to the femoral artery. He doubted any of them would have been open to a man dying in an alley.

"Yes. They are stubborn like that. Don't want her, but compelled to find her," The woman nodded. "Does he need to know what happened when Santana and his crew took her back to their ship? Or can he infer it from her injuries and the behavior that he witnessed?" Irritation was rising in her scent and she muttered in Chinese again, "Tā mā de sāo lǘ. Nǐ dào dǐ dǒng bù dǒng?"

"I'm not a moron," Riddick growled at her, taking the jab and accepting it as the price for information. He understood being called a jackass out of all the Chinese she'd spouted. "Know damn well they raped you. Made one of 'em tell me exactly who; every one of 'em but Vargas and Luna. Could smell it on you, what they did." He looked at her thoughtfully. In his experience, and in his time he'd seen a lot of traumatized women, a bath usually seemed to help. Getting clean, getting the stink of the men who'd hurt off her skin, might make her feel more comfortable. "We got plenty of water. I'll stay up here, keep my back turned; you want to have a real wash be my guest."

She nodded slowly, "Will finish making up the bunks first." He watched as she slowly uncurled her body from the chair and moved to the back of the ship. Riddick shook his head as he turned his attention back to the console and the instruments. This was going to be an interesting trip.

"Lil," He called back making the conscious choice to use the name she'd picked out. When she stopped moving he didn't turn around, just continued speaking as he flew the ship. "You wanna try this out, let's give it a coupla months, see how being partners works. We're ready to kill each other after the first quarter though...we find a planet and part ways, all bets are off. Deal?" 

"We have a deal Mr. Riddick," Her voice sounded pleased and he allowed himself a smile. Yeah, this was going to be an interesting trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So a few little snags but not so bad right? They might have a chance at actually making a go of this partnership thing. I figured River might be sure of him, his morals and capabilities but he'd be less certain of her. He's not a Reader after all even if he has damn fine instincts. 
> 
> So they're going to have to work together for a bit before they really get to trusting each other. That's for the sequel though. 
> 
> Chinese Translations:
> 
> mèi mei - little sister
> 
> Dì yù - hell
> 
> Tā mā de - fucking
> 
> sāo lǘ - jackass
> 
> Nǐ dào dǐ dǒng bù dǒng - Do you get it or not? Can you get it through your skull?
> 
> Quote Sources:
> 
> What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet. - Romeo and Juliet - William Shakespeare
> 
> I cannot hide what I am - Much Ado About Nothing - William Shakespeare
> 
> It must not be denied that I am a plain dealing villain. - Much Ado About Nothing - William Shakespeare


	15. Epilogue: Out Of the Jaws Of Death

A few hours later, she’d found a comb somewhere and brought it up to the co-pilot’s chair. Her feet were bare again; Riddick guessed boots weren’t totally comfortable after going without for so long. She’d found an oversized pair of pants but she’d made them stay on her hips with the gun belt. A man’s button down shirt was wrapped and tied at the small of her back so the fabric didn’t chafe under her gun and sword harness. She held another shirt as she stood beside him and he realized that she hadn’t spoken a word since she’d said they had a deal.

“Don’t need to talk. Can hear his mind, he is used to silence and she doesn’t mind only hearing his thoughts now and then,” Kitten shrugged at him. Riddick gave up as the nickname stuck in his head. She’d just have to hit him, or pinch him like she had on the bike, until he remembered to call her Lil. Or she could just take Kitten. It wasn’t like she was a pet or anything. He was a big guy. He could take a punch or two. When she'd pinched him on the bike his reaction had been more amused than annoyed. Something in him, the animal probably, was strangely insistent that Kitten wasn't interested in hurting him or betraying him. 

Her smile tilted approvingly, “She does not mind being called Kitten. If it is a name he thinks suits her, it is…without associations so it is a good nickname.”

“Right,” Riddick turned in the chair and looked at Dog, who was sleeping again, its breathing steady. “What’ve you got there?”

“Riddick must set the autopilot for a little while; his wound must be cleaned and dressed. Also found a shirt to replace the punctured leather skins.” She held it up. “A discussion of our destination is also in order.”

“Right,” Riddick had stripped off the torn leather shirt and given himself a quick wash on Johns’ ship. But apart from making sure his side didn’t show signs of infection he’d left it alone.

Kitten gestured for him to scoot forward in the chair so she could get at his side and carefully pressed on his ribs, thankfully not directly on the wound. "Can't feel anything stuck in there," She observed. "Cauterization has effectively stopped the bleeding. Healing is accelerated?"

Riddick nodded, "Always healed up faster'n most folks. If it was infected, I'd be seein' the red streaks already. But I tend to not get infections anyway."

She nodded her understanding and produced a bandage and some salve that smelled like antiseptic. It was some dark color. She made a face as it got on her fingers but smeared it over his wound and pasted the bandage to his skin. "Probably should change it tomorrow, helps healing, keeps the skin elastic," She explained quietly and wiped the excess off her fingers with a rag that looked like her old shirt. 

"So I'm fine," Riddick took a look at her. "How're your ribs? Givin' you any trouble?"

"Kept the support you made for her," The slender woman lifted the hem of the tight wrapped shirt to show him the leather he'd first wrapped around her waist. "Aids in breathing and movement. Keeps her ribs in place."

"But are they botherin' you?" Riddick pressed, not entirely pleased she hadn't actually answered the question.

"Does not have accelerated healing," Kitten was looking equally annoyed at being pushed to answer. "Not as good as he. Anticipates the fractures should be fully healed within three weeks. Less if she can get access to menders and calcium injections."

"You don't do any sorta heavy liftin' then," Riddick frowned at her. "Ain't like I don't got the muscles. An' the last thing you need is pneumonia." When she made a face he rolled his eyes, "If you're serious about this partner thing then let's at least try it? I let you poke an' prod me. So you let me pull some of the heavy weight until your ribs are up to snuff."

Kitten made another face but nodded in resignation. "Will endeavor to remember Riddick does not wish her to exert herself. No moving water tanks on her own." Riddick nodded and looked at her expectantly. Something told him that she had something else on her mind. The dark eyes regarded him and her scent changed to burning steel for a moment. That pretty mouth firmed and she nodded, "Destination," She began quietly. "She first should ask; if he has one in mind?"

"Was thinkin' to find a library of star charts. We all started out in the Alliance, thought maybe they'd have a record of Furya," Riddick said slowly recalling his thoughts before the rain had driven everything but survival from his mind.

"The libraries at Sihnon are open to all, but Sihnon is in the heart of White Sun," Kitten told him solemnly. "Riddick should not go there until we have worked on his records."

"Worked on..." Riddick repeated slowly speculation rampant in his mind. "You've got somethin' in mind?"

"There is a moon, unpopulated, its inhabitants were killed before the Miranda Wave," She began in a quiet voice. Her scent was rife with pain and determination, old and layered as if she was echoing what she'd felt then. "The man who lived there...was a genius with the cortex. Can't stop the signal. Everything goes somewhere and I go everywhere." Her words and accent had changed again, amusement and arrogance running through them. He guessed she was using someone else's words again. Kitten's mouth tilted sweetly, "Had backups upon backups. All his code, all his hardware, redundant and redundant again. Operative only destroyed one set." She shrugged at him, "A little bit of fixing here and there and the equipment is running again. No one goes to that moon. Most people think it's a dead rock, uninhabitable. Mr. Universe made them think it."

"And the folks who aren't most people," Riddick asked curiously. "What about them?"

"Operative won't go back to the place where he was forced to see a world without sin," She said softly. "Captain and crew won't return to the place where they lost the pilot, where they made their stand. No one goes there who knows about it. No one goes there who doesn't. Even the Purplebellies leave it alone.

Riddick looked at her, "We got enough fuel to get there? How far away is it?"

She knelt in the co-pilot's chair and looked at the fuel reserves, "Enough to reach it and scavenge. Kept fuel on the moon for the people who brought him supplies. Not much, but enough to get to a station. Had money, food, information, everything he wanted."

"And you wanna go there why exactly?" Riddick wasn't quite catching that part.

She smiled, "To husk the records, Alliance records. Mr. U's moon is the only place she knows with equipment that will reach into the heart of the Alliance. Can check for Furya. Check my records. Alter the recorded image so she is not matched by facial recognition programs fed by cameras. Do the same for Riddick. Minute adjustments will not fool the naked eye. But the brain compensates for irregularities. Cortex makes no such adjustments. Must be exact, ones or zeros. Yes or no. No maybe's in the cortex."

"So you wanna do some work, make it safe for us to move around the 'Verse," Riddick tilted his head as she sat back and picked up the comb. "And we might pick up some salvage and supplies so we can limp to a fuel station."

"Yes," She nodded, working the comb through the ends of her hair with an effort. "Much to do. But it must be done or we will be running from too many people. Cannot let Riddick's face be seen, he is still officially alive. She is dead, but if her face is seen she will be resurrected and the hunt will begin all over again."

He brought up the navigation screens and slid them over to her side of the console. "Well key it in and we'll get goin' Kitten."

She punched a few keys and charted the course, "Second star to the right. And straight on 'til morning."

Riddick laughed; even he could recognize the old line from some kids show. "All right, let's kick this pig." She giggled and shook her head and he gave his attention back to flying. This was really going to be an interesting few months. Who knew where they'd end up in the future?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin
> 
> Author's Note: So this is it! Hope you guys liked it. There is a sequel in the works as I've mentioned. It's going to take me some time to get it written so it may be a while but I've got bits and pieces and it's definitely going to have a romantic element. Also Shirah, the Necros eventually and the crew of Serenity for a few cameos if not through the entire story. 
> 
> I almost feel bad for River and Riddick! I'm so mean to them. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and all of your reviews. And thanks again to RCoots and her incredible beta-ing skills. All errors are my own.
> 
> Quote Sources: 
> 
> Second star to the right. And straight on 'til morning. - Peter Pan


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